


Above the Law

by originella



Category: Fifty Shades of Grey - E. L. James
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ana is a school teacher, Ana's parents are still together, Christian Grey is an attorney, Elena Lincoln is Christian's partner at the law firm, Eric Lincoln is the chief of police, F/M, Good Elena Lincoln, Kate is a magazine editor, Mia Grey is in culinary school, Theodore "Teddy" Grey is Ana's twin brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 19:03:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 85,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20980841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originella/pseuds/originella
Summary: Anastasia Steele is a teacher in her mid-twenties living in Seattle; when she meets attorney Christian Grey, although immediately attracted to him, she considers him rude and out of her league. When her best friend, Kate's, brother, Ethan, assaults her, Ana is left in need of medical and legal help, and she turns to the one man that she vowed never to, and yet wanted, to let in.





	1. Prologue

I allow the hot water to come down on me, causing me to inadvertently shiver at the thought of his hands on me, roving over every unmarked surface. Tears mingling with the dew drops of water, I find myself mentally thanking whoever invented the bathroom fan a thousand times over. Combined with its ever-constant hum from within the white paneled ceiling, as well as the jet of water in my face, my best friend and housemate, Katherine Kavanaugh, is unable to hear my sobs.

My hair feels like a dead weight, a snake of dark wetness down my back. He used to love to gently tangle his hands into it, inhaling the shampoo and conditioner that I used that he so loved, and he would tell me that he thought its length was perfectly suited to my face. He loved the golden brown, auburn color; red with the dusk, blonde with the noon, black with the dawn.

I shut my eyes then as I find myself thinking of him, biting my lip to draw my attention to a new kind of pain. I cover my mouth then, continuing to sob, hoping that Kate won’t hear my cries. I can’t take her comfort right now—or anyone’s, for that matter. The only thing I truly wanted now was him, but that could not happen.

I know what will happen, ultimately, of course. Just like every night for the past week, I will shut off the hot water and retreat into my bedroom and muffle my cries into my pillow until sleep takes me. Then, in the morning, I’ll wake up at seven, and attempt to find my foundation which will remedy my red eyes and then I’ll get into my work clothes and head to work. The children in my class will be sweet and kind to me, and for six and a half hours, I will forget my tragic life.

Turning off the hot water, I somehow manage to contain my sobs as I throw back the curtain, a wave of steam blinding me momentarily. I make a grab for my towel and wrap it around me, bending over the bath to wring out my hair before wrapping it in a smaller towel and retreating to my bedroom. I remembered reading somewhere that wrapping your hair in a towel to dry would do damage to the follicles, but I was beyond caring about hair care, or maintenance, especially when I had nobody to show it to. Once I reach my bedroom, I slip on a pair of underwear, shorts, and a tank top and am about to slip into bed when there is a knock at my door.

“Ana?” comes Kate’s voice. “I’ve had enough of this. Every day for the last week you’ve been avoiding me. Come on, open up. You and I seriously need to have a talk.”

Thinking she will think I passed out with the light on again, I quickly crawl into bed and feign sleep, thinking she will go away. Covering myself, I shut my eyes and wait for her to give up. I begin counting the seconds.

“Ana Steele, this is unacceptable behavior, even for you, despite the circumstances! I think its best that I now officially reserve the right as your best friend to unceremoniously barge into your bedroom!” She opens the door without difficulty, just as I turn and face the wall, away from her, which exasperates her further. “Ana, really? Don’t you dare pull the wall trick.” She reaches towards my shoulder, pulling me over. “There’s the face!” she says, smiling down at me before sitting down. “Now, come on. I need you to talk to me. This is getting out of hand.”

I sit up and tuck my knees underneath my chin, still shaking from the sobs that threatened to bubble from beneath the surface all over again—and I couldn’t have that. With my face still lowered, I cannot meet her eyes, and I don’t know if I even want to. I don’t want to say it, yet I know that I must. “Christian and I ended it a week ago,” I whispered.

Kate raises her eyebrows. “A week? And you waited that long before telling me?” she demands, before seeing my face crumple again. She shakes her head at that and reaches out to put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “For good?”

“Yes.”

She shakes her head, pulling me into a hug. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She pulls back. “Why not?”

I pull a face. “Because, it’d be weird! Besides, you’re dating my brother…my _twin_ brother, and I don’t want my family to know yet.”

Kate sighs, pushing a bit of my hair back behind my ear. “You know full well he’s an idiot, right?” she asks.

“What? Theo’s an idiot? But…you love him…”

“Yes, and have since we were fourteen.” She shakes her head. “I wasn’t talking about Theo; I was talking about Christian. Christian is the idiot here, Ana. Was it his new assistant? That Carlotta woman? I never liked her…”

I shrug, not allowing her words to comfort me. “I’m not beautiful enough,” I whisper, putting my head into my hands and sobbing again.

“What?!” Kate demands, pulling my hands from my face, her mama bear attitude coming out full-force. “Did Christian actually say that?! Those very words?!”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Then what did he say?”

“He said that we were too different—that his lifestyle and my lifestyle wouldn’t mesh in the outside world…”

Kate sighed. “Just because Christian’s supposedly the next Robert Kardashian and you’re a fourth-grade teacher doesn’t mean anything, Ana. You’re both great at what you do, you both love your jobs, and—from what I saw—you both loved each other. What happened? And I want specifics.”

I shrug. “That’s a long story…”

“Then start at the beginning,” Kate orders.

Rolling my eyes, I lean back against the pillows. “I guess it all began even before we met… I don’t know… you know me, I’m not some hoity-toity, upper class, high society bitch who thinks the whole world revolves around her,” I tell her. “I mean, I guess we sort of fell into each other’s lives…”

“Fell into?” Kate asks. “He saved you.”

“That was the _second_ time we met,” I tell her. “Had it been the first time, I would never have gotten into his car like that, even though the meetings were hours apart... You know how my parents raised me—to be wary of strangers. Just because your family situation wasn’t as hands-on, I know your parents taught you that much, at least.”

“Way to rub it in,” Kate says, shaking her head. “But, come on. Tell me. How did it start at the beginning?”

“On that first day—the first encounter, I mean—I hated him,” I reply honestly.

“Hated him?”

“Hated. His. Guts,” I tell her. “He was the epitome of a rich boy who got whatever he wanted, _whenever_ he wanted.”

“And he wanted you?”

“He didn’t say so, at the time. That came later.”

“I’m confused,” Kate says.

“He said that he thought I was refreshing,” I tell her. “Most people seemed to know almost instantly who he was and wanted to put themselves—or their sisters or their daughters or their nieces—forward to get him. But he liked the fact that, even though I knew exactly who he was, I wouldn’t take a bribe or be weak at the knees for him.”

“But you were?”

I laugh. “Damn straight, I was. He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen, but after all my failures over the years with the opposite sex, I’d learned to turn off my outward emotions, and wait for them to come to me.”

“Dangerous,” Kate put it.

I shrug. “I know—but it wasn’t my main focus. All I cared about was my career, and I’m still young, I still have time.”

“But you don’t want anyone else,” Kate guessed. “Come to think of it, you never wanted anyone else.”

I shook my head. “You’d be right,” I reply.


	2. First Sight

I entered my classroom after a brief respite in the staff room for a refill on my morning cup of cocoa. Setting the borrowed mug down beside my computer, I allow myself to take another look at my emails, knowing that I won’t be able to check them again until morning recess, nearly two hours from now. It is a full five minutes until class begins, at Ivy Door Academy, an exclusive private school for the local rich kids just fifteen minutes away from Downtown Seattle, where I am one of the three fourth grade teachers. I push back from my desk a bit and pull up the daily schedule, and pat myself on the back for putting silent reading for just after a math test, which would give the children a good amount of time to calm their nerves.

There are two more minutes left until the bell, and I know I’ve got to stop overthinking my carefully calculated plans as I push away from the computer. Getting to my feet, I check various folders and such before making my way to the door. I open it and walk down the hallway, past some other classrooms and the main office. Ivy Door Academy is an education institution for preschool through eighth grade, which means children aged four to thirteen roam these particular hallways pretty much daily. Preschool through second grade is on the first floor; third grade through fifth grade is on the second floor; and sixth grade through eighth grade is on the top floor.

Mrs. Fields, one of the other fourth grade teachers, who had become like a surrogate mother to me, scurries from her classroom just ahead of me. She turns and smiles as I catch up to her, and we make small talk. She is giving her kids a reading test on the chapter of _Stuart Little_ they were supposed to have read last night. I tell her that the math test my kids will be taking is on the eight times table.

Just as we step down the last stair, the school bell rings. There are a few teachers ahead of us and several scampering along behind us in an effort to pick up their kids and get them into class. As we open the door, numerous collective screams greet our ears as we walk into the children’s general vicinity. I don’t know how safe it is for this period of time for four-year-olds to thirteen-year-olds is with minimal supervision, but no great accident has happened yet—this year, at least.

I wave goodbye to Mrs. Fields, knowing full well that I will see her around twelve-thirty for lunch in the teacher’s lounge. Looking over the children gathered, I quickly zero-in on my class and count them, just as I do every morning. With twenty kids per class, I quickly notice that one—bright-eyed and intelligent Ava Grey—is missing. I bend down to her best friend, Ian Maxwell, and ask him if he knows anything.

“Ava’s mom and dad are out of town,” Ian tells me happily, eager to be the one to share this information. “She was staying with her grandparent’s, but her grandpa fell down and hurt himself,” he went on, his dark eyes becoming wary at this particular tidbit. “She’s staying with her Uncle Christian now.”

“Oh, I see,” I say, as I make a motion for the children to fall in line behind me. As he is the assigned line leader for that day, it is not difficult for me to keep my semi-important talk with Ian going as we troop inside. “Tell me, Ian—have you met his uncle before?” 

Ian nods up at me. “Yes. He lives in a _huge_ penthouse downtown,” he goes on, obviously impressed with his way of living. “When Ava’s dad works late, sometimes we go over there and hang out. He has an indoor pool _inside_ his house, and it’s heated.”

“That’s nice,” I say as we continue inside and up the stairs. “Do you think that Ava is sick, or just running late this morning?”

“The second one,” he replies, nodding his head effusively. “Christian can get really tied up in his work. He’s this lawyer for big cases.”

I nod at Ian, putting two and two together. Ava’s uncle must be Christian Grey, the top attorney for Washington State. He wins every case, and even managed to get one of his last clients—Theresa Webber—to escape death row by coming up with some medical history that showed that she had a proven clinical history of mental illness. The verdict was handed down as “not guilty by reason of insanity” and she was sentenced to eleven years in a mental hospital as well as five months of house arrest afterwards.

“You have to be great at what you choose do career-wise,” I tell Ian with a smile as we all file into the classroom.

“Miss Steele, I wanna be a lawyer when I grow up,” Ian proclaims.

“Well, then you must begin to study law as soon as possible.”

“I will,” he vows.

The children take their seats without being asked and I stand at the front of the classroom, nodding a greeting to Annette, my assistant teacher, who is in graduate school. “Okay, class, today we’re going to have a quick little math test to go over the eighth times table—it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.” A collective groan overtakes the classroom. “Come on, now,” I say, bending down to retrieve the stack of tests before passing them out. “All of you will have a total of fifteen minutes to complete the exam. Yes, Clara?” I say, turning to a girl who is seated to the left of Ian.

“Fifteen minutes is the same as recess time, right?” she asks.

I smile, thinking that it’s so wonderful when children make comparisons like this. “That’s correct, Clara,” I say, handing over her test. “It’s nine-oh-five now, so who knows what time the test will be over?”

“Nine-twenty!” the class chants.

“Good,” I say, just as my classroom phone rings. Annette springs into action as soon as I’ve handed over the tests to her. I cross the room and pick up the phone, seeing that the front office is calling. “Hello?” I say.

“Ah, Miss Steele,” says Mrs. Caudwell from the office. “I have Ava Grey here with me. Her uncle is just signing her in.”

“I’ll be right there,” I say, hanging up before she can tell me not to come as I turn back to my ever-competent assistant teacher. “I’ve got to go pick Ava from the main office. Do you think you can you handle the class for a couple of minutes?” I ask Annette.

She nods and gives me a smile as I slip out from the classroom.

I walk up the hallway, and immediately spot Ava showing who I presume to be her uncle Christian some artwork on the wall. I quickly note that it is from our class, when the children learned about the difference between pastels and neon’s. My heels click on the wood floor, and both of them turn at the noise.

“Miss Steele!” Ava cries out happily, bounding up to me and immediately throwing her arms around my waist.

“Well hello, there, Ava,” I say, clutching her to me for a brief moment before pulling back from her. “You’re just in time. We’ve started the math exam on the eighth times table. Why don’t you run along and get started?” I say, looking past her to Christian Grey. “I need to have a word with your uncle.”

Christian hands Ava a ten-dollar bill—which I presume must be for lunch money—before giving her a big hug. “I’ll see you next weekend, sweetheart,” he calls after her as little Ava gives a little wave and slips into the classroom. He turns and looks at me then, almost as if he is sizing me up, wondering who is the real person supposedly in charge here, and I find my lips parting automatically, my knees turning to jelly, and my core immediately begins to pound. “So, you must be the famous Miss Anastasia Steele?”

I nod, letting him call me by my full name as I proceed to struggle to pull myself together. “It appears that I am.”

“I’m Christian Grey,” he says, putting out his hand, with that star-studded grin on his impossibly handsome face.

“I know who you are,” I reply, forcing myself to remain cold to his demeanor as I cross my arms, my breasts elevating themselves to slight exposure above my neckline, something not lost on him as I ignore his offer of a handshake. “I want you to understand, Mr. Grey, that I don’t tolerate children being late unless it is for a specific emergency.”

“Specific?” he asks, confused.

I grit my teeth. “You know, medical emergency, a member of one’s immediate family having a medical emergency…” I hesitate for a moment, really wanting him to absorb the words. “It’s school policy, Mr. Grey, I’m sure you understand. I realize that the situation with Ava’s grandfather happened a few days ago, but I personally think that it should have been properly taken care of by now…”

“So, the fact that we had to stop to get my morning coffee and a breakfast burrito for Ava isn’t considered an emergency?” he asks, in an effort to make a joke, albeit a childish one, all the while his face, and tone, remaining serious.

I find my fingers have knotted themselves together as agitation threatens to take over my psyche completely. “Mr. Grey, I can understand and appreciate that you’re new to the whole parental supervision thing—”

He narrows his eyes at me. “In point of fact, Miss Steele, I spend at least two nights a week watching Ava, usually on the weekends.”

I purse my lips at the excuse; Christian Grey is slowly but surely proceeding to annoy me, and not in a good way. “Well, then I suppose you’re new to the whole parental supervision thing on a school day,” I say, and somehow force myself to keep my tone relatively light, and nearly fail in doing so. “However, I want to impress on you a few things. A teacher will not find humor in a child being late. Furthermore, if that said child is late without proper explanation, the said teacher will proceed to think the worst.”

“The worst?” demands Christian Grey. “God, I don’t believe this…”

I ignore his outburst. “For example, we live in a rather large city, sir, and, therefore, if a child is late, a teacher could think that the child was in a horrible accident. Or, mind you, if a parent or guardian shows up and proceeds to attempt to make jokes to the instructor about the reasons why they themselves caused the student’s tardiness, then action will be taken. I will speak to Ava about this morning, and I will tell the secretary and the dean of the school to watch out for further morning mishaps when it is made known to us that Ava is in your care.”

“Come now, Miss Steele,” he says, clearly growing annoyed. “I’m not a parent, okay, and I have my own life to live. I shouldn’t be expected to adhere to your guidelines when I have many of my own to consider.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about your guidelines!” I hiss, after briefly looking around to make sure nobody else was in the hallway, as I grip the insides of my arms—_Get it together, Steele_, my inner goddess warns, staring at me from behind old-fashioned secretary glasses. “I don’t work for you, and that’s probably a good thing, as you obviously aren’t very strict when it comes to scheduling,” I say, tempted to whack him with the back of my hand. “But I don’t have time for your little outbursts—much more of this and I’ll set my own schedule behind. Good day, Mr. Grey,” I say pointedly before turning around and returning to the classroom.

Annette looks up as I come in, smiling and waving briefly before returning to her own carefully put-together lesson plan. Since she is studying to teach herself, she is allowed to teach one lesson a day. After Christmas, she will take over for me for half the day, and by Easter, she will take over entirely. Then, by June, she will graduate with her teaching qualifications. The third and final fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Anderson, will be retiring at the end of the school year, and Annette will take her place.

I check the time, noticing that it is nine-twelve. I go to my desk and log in to my email, where I see one from Kate, my best friend and partner in crime. She was pretty much adopted by my family because her dad moved to Europe to pursue a top job as an executive for a French company. Her mother married another man, had two sons named Benjamin and Edward, before passing away whilst living in Virginia. Kate has four siblings in total, with the oldest two being Gia and Ethan; the former was an executive at an ad agency in Tacoma, while Ethan owned a restaurant in Downtown Seattle.

I click my email and briefly tap my finger impatiently on the mouse pad, as the server debates on whether or not to respond. Kate reminded me of the welcome home dinner of my twin brother, Theodore, who had just completed ten years of medical school. Theo was beginning his residency at Swedish Hospital, and intended on opening his own surgery practice in the next couple of years. The welcome home dinner was to be held at Ethan’s restaurant, known as The Electric Violin.

I reply that, considering that Mom and Dad are away in Barbados, as the main and official family member—although I am twelve minutes younger—that I of course will be there. I have Annette assigned to do the final lesson that day so as I can slip out a few minutes early, get Theodore’s welcome home gift, go home, change, feed my cat, Tess, and then haul ass to the restaurant. I send the email and see that the time is already nine-twenty-four, so I quickly get to my feet, logging out of my email in one swift moment as I do.

Looking over my lesson plans, I decide to go over the history project before silent reading in order to keep them all on their toes.

“All right, children,” I say, walking to the front of the classroom and catching a good portion of looks from them. “I’ve given you a little extra time, as you can clearly see. Pencils down, please. Annette will take your tests and correct them. You’ll get them back after lunch. I want those of you who have more than five wrong answers to go over them with your parents tonight. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” they all say coherently, handing their tests over to Annette before turning back to look at me.

I smiled at them all, turning to pick up my copy of their history book. “Now it’s time to discuss chapter four in our history book, _The American Revolution_. Can anyone tell me the year that the revolution began?” I ask. “Yes, Trinity?” I say, pointing to a Hispanic girl in the second row.

“1775, on April nineteenth,” she replies.

I nod. “Very good,” I say, reaching into my plastic goody jar and handing over a pink butterfly eraser to her. “Now, who can tell me why the war began? Yes, Elliot?” I say, nodding at one of my prized pupils.

“They were being treated unfairly,” Elliot answers. “They wanted to be free, which is why they came to America in the first place.”

“Yes,” I say, handing him a blue rocket eraser. “Who can tell me just why these individuals wanted to be free?”

Henry raises his hand in an eager manner. “They all wanted to be a different religion,” he replies quickly, excitedly.

“That’s right,” I smile and hand over a green dinosaur eraser to him. “And who was stopping them from being the religion they wanted?”

“King George III of England!” cries Brandy, bouncing up and down.

I giggle a bit at her excitement and hand over a kitten eraser. “That’s very good, Brandy. And now, some review. Who can tell me when they fled England to America?”

“1620, on the Mayflower,” Greg answers, and I give him a robot eraser.

“Where did they land?” I ask.

“Plymouth Rock!” chants Elissa.

I nod, giving her a puppy eraser. “Now, for your history report. Many important men from the period signed a big document. Can anyone tell me what they signed?”

“The Constitution?” asks Timothy.

I nod, handing over a LEGO eraser. “That’s correct. There were parts of it—separate laws—call amendments that everyone had to agree upon. Does anyone know just how many amendments there were?”

“Twenty-seven?” Chelsea wants to know.

“Yes,” I tell her, handing her an eraser with a ballerina on it. “I want you all to pick someone important on that period. I want a two-page paper on it. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to do it. Your research is due by Halloween, your outline by Thanksgiving, and the final paper on the last day of class before Christmas. Is that understood?”

Twenty pairs of eyes nod at me, and I felt secure in that moment. That is why I went into teaching, to bring security to myself and young minds. The young kids in front of me deftly understood what was to come to pass, that complications would definitely play a role in their lives at some point, yet now, with their childlike innocence, they would be able to have the freedom to roam about their minds and express themselves accordingly.

“That’s very good,” I tell them, getting my stack of yellow rubrics and passing them out, knowing that questions were imminent. “I encourage you to work on some of this report with your parents—perhaps the research gathering portion, or deciding who you want to write about. They’re bound to know some information that even I don’t know about all these people in Colonial times in America. Best of luck to all of you, and I mean that—I know projects like this can be hard, but you’ll know what to do. Now, it’s time for silent reading time. Books out, please.”

. . .

The rest of the day goes by quickly. Finally, it is almost two-fifteen, and I’ve just finished going over the math homework for that night. I turn to Annette, who has an art project for all of them. I pass out their math homework and nod to her, before saying goodbye to all the kids. I go to my desk and gather my things, putting the need-to-be corrected assignments inside my folder and into my briefcase for good measure. I then put on my raincoat, scarf, gloves, and my earmuffs as the autumn nip to the air has begun. I log out of my email account before ascertaining that I have everything, just as I slip my Tupperware from lunch into my bag. Waving goodbye one last time, I leave.

Slipping out unnoticed from my classroom, I navigate down the hall and to the elevator, to the parking garage for teachers. Pressing the ‘G’ button, I wait for the doors to close. About thirty seconds later, they open, and I walk out into the parking lot, removing my keys from my bag and automatically unlocking my car and slipping inside. Locking the doors behind me, I put my bag onto the seat next to me and put the keys into the ignition.

I wave to Tony Monroe, the security guy, on my way out, thanking god that it is Friday and that my weekend can be spent with my brother, and working some paper grading in there as well. I get on the Five Freeway and make my way towards the Northgate Mall, where my plan is to go to Barnes and Noble and get a decent book on medical care. Since Theodore just got his degree to be a brain surgeon, I decide to start there. I get off the freeway and get into the parking lot easily, slipping into a parking space and getting out of the car. I walk inside the store and look around.

Dying for a Frappuccino, I go to the adjacent Starbucks—which is a brilliant marketing idea on their part—and order a Grande vanilla bean frap with a good amount of whipped cream. I get my drink and turn around, noticing that they’ve changed the layout. I quickly notice that my desired section is upstairs, so I hop on the escalator and make my way up. Looking around, I turn left and, sipping my drink, head into the proper section.

Bypassing sport’s medicine, cancer research, and other topics that I know next to nothing about, I find the surgery section. I am thankful that it is alphabetical, and I quickly find that they have about a dozen different titles in the desired field of study. I settle on _Brain Surgeon: A Doctor’s Inspiring Encounters with Morality and Miracles_ by Keith Black and Arnold Mann. I appreciate that it is less than fifteen dollars and quickly notice that it is after three already. I know that Kate is especially prompt and will expect me home at four on the dot so we can carpool, so I know that I’d better pay for the book and leave. I leave the medical section and find myself halting at the _Barnes and Noble Jr._ section, and impulsively step in.

I know that I could use a few more books for my classroom, so I grab a hardback copy of _Charlotte’s Web_, the book we’re due to read next. Upon turning, I see a wonderful print of _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_, Theodore’s favorite book growing up. I pick it up and, nodding to myself, force myself away from the section known for happy endings and beautiful illustrations. I show my teacher I.D. so I get a discount and allow them to wrap up _Brain Surgeon_ and _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_.

I walk out into the parking lot and find my car without difficulty. I toss what’s left of my frap into the public trash can and hop into my car. I go along north for a moment before getting on the freeway towards my condo that I share with Kate, a lovely two bedroom just ten minutes away from Downtown. I make it there without issue and pull into the parking garage. I text Kate telling her that I am downstairs, ten minutes ahead of schedule. As I’m going up in the elevator, Theodore texts me to tell me that he’s arrived safely at our parent’s empty house and that he just wants to shower and change before heading out, but that he’ll meet us there.

Smiling at the thought of seeing my brother again after so long, I get out of the elevator on the third floor of the building and go to room 317, our condo. Unlocking the door, I hear the shower fan on, as well as the stream of water, so I know Kate is still in her bathroom. Since she found the condo, she got master bedroom with the en suite bathroom while I got the small bedroom in the back with regular bathroom right next door. Since she is addicted to her phone—and seeing if celebrities have replied to her Tweets—I know she will know that I’m home safely and that I didn’t get into a car accident.

I greet Tess and hold her briefly before giving her a generous spoonful of salmon tuna and heading to my bedroom. I quickly remove my work clothes and throw them into my laundry basket, reminding myself to do laundry that weekend, or else I’d be forced to wear overtly formal clothes to work. I make a mental note to get change from Ethan at the restaurant later as I wrap myself in my towel and head to the bathroom. Turning on the fan and locking the door, I turn on the water and adjust it to the temperature that I like. Hanging my towel up on the door behind me, I step into the shower.

Constantly drifting to various future assignments, as well as to my twin’s well-being, I cannot seem to get ahold of what happened with Christian Grey earlier that day. I received a note from him during lunchtime that informed me that he was impressed with my vocabulary and my ability to describe certain situations, yet then proclaimed that such a thing would be expected of any teacher. Thus, I was officially rubbed the wrong way by a family member of student, which wouldn’t have been the first time.

I remembered that, during my first year of teaching, there was a girl student I had named Harper Lowry. Her parents were convinced that she was the next genius, yet she was simply precocious and a bit high and mighty, as well as more than a little demanding. With a generous donation to a local private high school, after fourth grade, she was able to enter her sophomore year of high school. After taking an academics qualification exam, she was then put into college courses. I still didn’t understand why Mitch and Angela Lowry insisted upon believing so highly in their child, but, thankfully, she was no longer under my jurisdiction.

I turn off the water and step out of the shower, quickly wrapping myself in and drying myself with my towel. After brushing my hair and cleaning my ears, I removed my hair dryer from its shelf and proceed the unfortunate fifteen-minute drying regiment. After the ever-constant hum begins to wear on me, I realize that my hair is dry. Turning it off, I escape the bathroom and walk the three or so feet to my bedroom and open my closet door.

I choose one of my dozen or so black dresses with an oval neckline. I find my grandmother’s silver locket with a picture of Theodore, Kate, me, and Ethan inside, for Gia always preferred to be behind the camera. I slip on the customary, uncomfortable pantyhose and the dress on top, running a brush through my hair as I slip into my heels. Grabbing a simple, black, half-cape, I step out of my bedroom, just as Kate comes out of hers, in her favorite plum dress.

She smiles at me, her red hair bouncing as she does. She pulls her customary leather jacket around her shoulders, gripping her deep gray, sparkling clutch in her perfectly manicured hands. I grip my wallet tightly as I shove it into my black leather bag, and nod to her, holding the Barnes and Noble bag in the other hand. She gleefully rolls her eyes at me as we switch off the lights in our bedrooms, and quickly put on the ones in the living room and kitchen before stepping out. I notice a carefully wrapped gift in her other hand, and wonder if she did it herself.

We get to the parking garage, while Kate chats about her job as a chief writer at _Seattle Times_ and about how her new intern, Howard, is convinced that he’ll win her over. “I mean, he’s _obviously_ still in the closet with conservative parents,” she says as we approach her car, sliding in carefully. “Oh! New topic idea!” she cries, taking out her phone and writing something in her notepad app before driving us out of there.

We drive to the dead center of Downtown Seattle before handing our keys over to the valet at Ethan’s restaurant. Going inside, the maître d, Thomas, greets us and motions for the hostess to take us to our table. The hostess, Holly, smiles at the pair of us, confirmed regulars. Chatting in a friendly manner with Kate as we turn the corner, I am the first to see Theodore. Shouting, I run to him, and he turns to face me.

Theodore is over six feet tall, with the same skin tone, eyes, and nose as me. He has our father’s mouth and hair, while my mouth came from our mother, and my hair from our Aunt Agatha. He grins and opens his arms to me, and I jump into them, feeling tears coming down my face in relief that he is home safe. He was top of his class, so he never risked coming home during vacations, and I could never afford a trip all the way to Columbia University to see him, so we had four long years apart, with only bi-weekly Skype chats, daily text messages, and emails every three days or so to tied us over.

“Theo, Theo, Theo!” I cry, never wanting to let him go. My brother and I hadn’t been very close until high school, when twins were suddenly cool. Although he excelled in science as I did in English, we learned to help each other out, and thus, a life-long friendship was born over what we didn’t know. After graduation, he got pre-med out of the way at the University of Washington, while I went to Western Washington University, due to their excellent education program. The University of Washington was located in Seattle, where we were born, but Western Washington University was about an hour and thirty minutes away, causing what we liked to call “twinstance problems”.

“Ana!” he says, lifting me up and swinging me around. “Oh, you have no idea how good it feels to hug you again!” He sets me down and gives me a hard look, shaking his head. “We may be twins, but I know full well that there’s something different about you…”

I shrug. “It’s nothing; probably just lack of sleep. These kids ride me hard, but the school finally swung for me to get a student teacher this year.”

“That’s right! Annette something… Mom and Dad mentioned it…”

“Annette Parker,” I reply, laughing a little. “You’ll have to remember names now, Theo. I don’t think any patients’ families would take too kindly to you misplacing that particular information to the person you’re about to cut open and do brain surgery on.”

“I know, I should probably work on that,” he says, looking up past me, and, seeing Kate, his eyes widen. “Kate, is that you?” he asks, squeezing my hand briefly before walking past me and giving his full attention to my best friend.

“Hey there, Theodore,” Kate replies formally, her cheeks heating immediately, her childhood crush never having left her for a moment. “How was your flight?” she asks, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“Fine, just fine,” he says, looking as if he wants to grab her up in an embrace, but is fearful of Ethan coming out.

Thankfully, Gia arrives and serves as the perfect distraction. With her is her boyfriend of nearly two years, Scott McCabe. The pair of them greet everyone and then we all sit down, just as Ethan arrives. Ethan claps Theodore on the back, for they were childhood best friends and I know that Ethan missed my brother terribly. We all sit down at the table, Ethan sitting on one side of me, Theodore on the other, and Kate on my brother’s other side. I try not to notice that Ethan has bumped my knee with his more than once, and otherwise dinner is completely fabulous and gourmet-approved. We eat and talk until after ten, and then Theodore pulls me aside to talk at the bar.

“Scotch and soda, please,” he says to the bartender.

“I’ll have a water, thanks,” I say, not wanting to appear rude, because I don’t really drink all that much. “What’s on your mind, my twin?” I ask, smiling at him.

“So…you and Ethan?” he asks, looking from where we’re standing to where he is, gabbing with his sisters. “How’s that going?”

I choke on a massive ice cube in my water, shuddering at the very thought of it as my face seems to flame automatically, my inner goddess nearly falling off her chair and retching in a silver basin in shock. “Excuse me?!” I cry.

“Aren’t you and Ethan a thing?”

I shake my head, my inner goddess screaming, _God no_! “I _don’t_ know what you’re talking about…” I manage to get out.

“Nothing,” Theodore says, sipping his drink. “Just forget it.”

Not wanting to forget it, but not wanting to start a public fight with my brother who I hadn’t been physically with in four years, I decide to drop it. “What else is on your mind? Any hot stewardesses on the plane?”

Theodore snorts, managing to keep his alcohol down. “Not really,” he says, looking past me to the table.

“Theo, just say it…”

“I want to ask Kate out. There, I said it. Do you think she’ll say yes? I mean, I thought about it before—and I was really mad when Andy Peterson asked her to prom when I really wanted to—but all that’s over now. I mean, she doesn’t still talk to Jose, does she?”

I laugh and shake my head. “No. Jose moved to Texas to do pro ball, but now he has a wife and kid to support. I think he works at a fast food chain down there that’s not allowed up here because of its inferior meat content,” I say, giving him a smile.

“Which one?”

“Whataburger,” I reply, knowing full well that the vast majority of the world only knows what that restaurant is because of _King of the Hill_.

“Oh, I see,” he says, attempting to appear thoughtful as his eyes move to Kate again. “I really like her, Ana…”

“Theo, she’s liked you since we were four, loved you since we were fourteen, and wanted you in every way possible since we were seventeen. I highly advise that you make a move sooner rather than later.”

My twin smiles and nods. “Okay. Can you get her to come over? I really don’t want Ethan to potentially assassinate me…”

I nod. “Sure, no problem,” I reply. “Go down the hall like you’re going to the bathroom and wait there for her. I’ll do the rest.” I kiss him on the cheek and nod, before walking back to the table, watching from the corner of my eye as he slips away. “Kate, can I speak to you for a moment?” I say quietly.

She turns to me instantly, nods, and gets to her feet. Returning to the bar, she gives me a concerned look. “What’s going on?”

“I have to talk to you, but not here. Meet me in the hallway outside the bathrooms, okay? It’s really important.”

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m really worried about Theodore. He says it’s just jet lag but I’m not sure. Can you help me reason with him, please? I’m afraid that maybe he got addicted to something in New York…”

At once, Kate looks worried. “Of course,” she says, and find that I can almost hear her heart pounding. Looking around, she bites her lip, almost as if she is thinking that Theodore escaped out into the night. “Maybe wait with Gia and Ethan and Scott until we find him?”

“Sure, that’s perfect,” I say, having no intention of listening to her. “You go back now. I’ll chat with them for a few minutes and then I’ll meet you back there.”

“Sounds good,” she says, relieved, before slipping by me and heading to the back hallway where the bathrooms are.

I count to ten in my head before following. I barely move, not wanting my heels to make a loud, disturbing noise on the tiled floor. Peeking around the corner, I see Kate spot Theodore as he comes out of the bathroom.

She steps forward, a bit unsure. “Theodore?”

He turns. “Oh, hey Kate. What’s up?”

Kate’s voice was concerned. “Ana mentioned that you were having a few issues with coming back from New York. She thinks you’re addicted to something…”

Theodore chuckles, just as I cover my face in an effort to stop myself from laughing too loudly at his reaction. “You could say that…”

She steps forward further this time and takes his hands. “Whatever it is, Theodore, we’ll get through it. You have a support system here. You’ve got to know that.”

Theodore shakes his head at her thoughts. “My god… Um, I don’t have an addiction to any medicinal substances, Kate.”

“Excuse me?” she asks.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Kate, I’ve got to be honest with you. I did not want Jose to take you to prom.”

She giggles. “Theodore, that was almost six years ago.”

He nods. “I know. But I couldn’t take it anymore. Kate, I’ve had feelings for you for a really long time. I want to go out with you, and, eventually, be your boyfriend.”

Kate gasps aloud then, covering her face like one of those women who has just been proposed to on live T.V. “Of course I’ll go out with you, Theodore!” she cries, throwing her arms around him and going in for their first kiss.

Smiling to myself, and feeling like a modern-day Emma Woodhouse, I walk from that area and back to the main dining area. Just as I turn the corner, I see Ethan, Gia, and Scott talking to a man about our age. He laughs, and a chill goes down my spine; heart pounding everywhere, from my throat to my core, I find I cannot believe my ears. I wait, and soon he throws his head back just far enough so as I can identify him fully.

It is Christian Grey.


	3. Out of the Ordinary

I put on a smile as I approach the table, sliding in on Gia’s side, watching as Scott and Ethan talk to Christian. Gia turns and smiles at me, telling me that she hasn’t had an opportunity to talk to me all evening. Holding up her hand, she flashes a two-carat diamond ring, and tells me that she wants to be one of her bridesmaids when her and Scott get married next June. I accept, and pull her into a hug.

“How do Ethan and Scott know Christian?” I whisper to her.

“Scott and Christian went to college together,” Gia replies easily. “And Nate met Christian when he was having some issues with the former property owners. Christian was the one who convinced them to move to Florida.” She pulls back and gets a good look at me. “Why? Do you know him?”

“I met him eleven hours ago,” I reply, shaking my head. “His nephew is in my class. He was…smarmy,” I say, wrinkling my nose.

Gia giggles. “Yeah, he can get that impression sometimes,” she tells me, looking round me to see that Theodore and Kate are standing at the bar. “Is it finally happening?” she asks, nodding to them.

I nod. “Yes. A little plan Theo and I cooked up together. I actually convinced your sister that Theo was hopped up on prescription drugs or something,” I tell her, shaking my head while Gia laughs.

The door of the restaurant comes open, and Ethan looks up to see the Friday night entertainment arriving. He excuses himself from the conversation, and Scott and Christian continue speaking as Ethan goes towards the door. He greets all of the musicians in turn before showing them to the stage, and going behind the microphone himself and switching it on.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to The Electric Violin,” Ethan says, grinning at all his loyal patrons. “Tonight, we have the musical stylings of Onyx Nicotine,” he says and claps his hands as the rest of the patrons clap along with him. “We have this lovely dance space here, and we’re going to get the lights working momentarily, so I’d like to invite you all out to use the space. My sister, Gia, who is here tonight, is going to marry Scott, her long-term boyfriend, so maybe if the two of them begin, it will encourage you all to partake,” he says, a grin forming on his lips as he finds Gia in the crowd, before nodding to the customers, as well as the band before slipping back to the table.

The band picks up by playing a cover of _Don’t Stop Believin’_ by Journey, and Gia and Scott get up from the table and proceed to dance. I watch as Kate and Theodore go next, and see Ethan’s confused look as the pair of them look so committed to one another. A handful of other couples go up to the floor, and Christian turns to greet his brother and sister-in-law, Elliot and Leila, frequent visitors to my classroom, who apparently love this place as much as I do. Leila sees me and approaches me immediately, throwing her arms around me.

“Ana, it’s great to see you!” she says, pulling back ever so slightly to air-kiss my cheek. “I haven’t seen you outside your work clothes before. I must say, you look great!”

I smile at her. “Thank you, Leila. How are you?”

“Well, Elliot and I got back this afternoon from our business trip to New York,” she says. “It was amazing—the client got the deal they wanted... But, I heard there was a small issue with Christian dropping off Ava. Would you mind filling me in?”

“No, of course I wouldn’t mind,” I answer her as the band takes up _Dream On_ by Aerosmith, not even caring that it was the weekend. “Your brother-in-law arrived—several minutes late, mind you—with your son, and proceeded to make inappropriate jokes and comments. He even had the nerve to attempt to flirt his way out of it. I explained to him the potential severity to the whole situation, but he didn’t seem to want to hear it. I told him that, if this happened a second time, then the dean would warn him personally, but if it happened a third time, then Ava couldn’t be dropped off by him anymore. And it’s not my policy, mind you, it’s the schools’.”

“No, no, I understand completely,” Leila replies. “And my brother-in-law really tried to flirt with you?” she demands.

I nod. “Yes, although I’m sure it wasn’t meaningful. He did so by making inappropriate jokes in an attempt to reason with me, I suspect. If he expects to go on by playing lawyer hardball with me, it simply won’t work. I love crime shows, Leila. I know every trick in the book, and he’s not allowed to lead the witness with me.”

Leila giggles at my witty banter and nods. “Don’t you worry. I’m sure that Elliot and I will both have a word with Christian. He can be a bit…presumptuous sometimes, I’m afraid. We’ll speak to him at some point this weekend.”

I nod. “Thank you. I really appreciate that, Leila,” I tell her as the band continues on with _More Than a Feeling_ by Boston.

Ethan comes towards me, grinning at the fact that he’s gotten his crew to get the lights to work, and takes my hand. “Leila, you don’t mind if I steal her away, do you?”

“Not at all,” Leila says, although my stomach somersaults in protest. “How’s the Pinot Noir tonight?”

“Red, shipped from Melbourne,” Ethan calls over his shoulder, but blows her a kiss as we hit the dance floor. He puts one hand on my shoulder, the other on my waist, and we proceed to dance with all the other couples gathered around us. “Tell me what you know about your brother and my sister.”

My eyebrows immediately shoot up. “You’re not impressed?”

He shrugs. “Theo loves women…”

I nod. “So do you,” I reply, allowing him to turn me in unison with the other couples. “I would think that a guy with a restaurant could get more fish tail than a doctor,” I say, and note with glee that my old friends’ lips twitch upwards in a momentary look of humor. “Theo’s a good guy, Ethan, you know that. And, I mean, look at them. They’ve liked each other forever—and I know that you’re not oblivious to that fact, no matter how hard you try to be.”

Ethan shrugs. “I don’t know. It just feels like we’re brothers and sisters…”

I nod. “I know, Ethan. But we’re not. That’s the main thing to remember here: Not one of us are siblings.”

“Do you really feel that way?” Ethan asks.

I nod as the song ends and the band picks up _Don’t Stop Me Now_ by Queen, completely unknowing at how he could possibly take my opinion. “I would think you would know that by now, Nate.”

Ethan grins then and kisses me. There is no filter like they show you on television, he just grabs me and holds on. I don’t feel the world stop like it should; in fact, the sounds around me just get louder. My eyes fly open in shock and I feel nothing, other than I want to get him off me. I manage enough leverage to move him so that I can breathe.

“I guess I just walked right into that one,” I say softly, shaking my head, and turning to look up at Ethan. “I’m really sorry, Nate, I…”

“You mean you didn’t…?”

“No,” I reply. “I need some air…”

“Ana, please, I think…”

“Please, Nate, I need some time,” I say, leaving the dance floor. I go to the back hallway and get a drink from the water fountain. Other than momentarily clearing my mind, the fact that it tastes like it has a metal back turns me off completely. Shaking my head, I turn to see him standing there, walking towards me with purpose, and I cross my fingers that he’s there to check the generator, but something in his eyes tip me off that that’s not what Ethan’s here for. “I thought you understood that I didn’t—”

He grabs me then, kissing me again so hard and so fast that he slams me up against the wall. My muffled shouts into his mouth do nothing to dissuade him —in fact, it seems to be turning him on. I taste the alcohol and know, deep down, that he is drunk out of his mind, yet I know that is no excuse for kissing me after I said no.

“Ethan, _stop_!” I cry out as he moves to my neck. “I said ‘no’! What does that mean to you?!” I demand as he captures my mouth again. “You’re crushing me,” I wheeze into his mouth. “I don’t want this…” I begin flailing about pathetically, like a wounded bird without feathers. My mind is going a mile a minute, and I don’t even pay attention as his hand slips below my waist and somewhere that no man has ever gone before. I know that, if I can just raise my leg slightly, I could either kick or knee him in the groin. I know it is my only shot, and I must not allow him to suspect it.

Sensing my chance, I promptly knee him, just as footsteps come from around the corner and my skirt manages to fall into place again. Looking up, my hair disheveled and the rest of my dress mauled, I turn to see Christian standing there, looking down at Nate, passed out from his drunkenness. He raises his eyebrows, looking from him to me.

“Hey, for the record, it was assault,” I claim, pulling my dress lower, and then covering my top half just as quickly. “And I was merely defending myself.”

He nods. “Did you say ‘no’?” he asks.

I roll my eyes at the stupid question. “Of course I did!”

Christian sighs. “Okay. Well, I was about to head out myself, to call it a night. I think your brother left with your roommate…”

“House mate,” I mutter, my tone testy, as I peek around the corner and look out into the restaurant. “Brilliant… He doesn’t drive right now, so they probably took off in her car, and of course she insisted that we carpool tonight…”

“I can take you back to your condo.”

I blinked, my shock registering immediately as I turned to look at him. _How in the hell did he know I lived in a condo_?! “Excuse me?”

He nods. “My apartment is just Downtown, so it’s on my way…well, in the opposite direction of my way, but it’s not an issue.”

I inch a bit to the left, towards the hallway. _Stranger danger_... “I’ll just ask Gia and Scott for a ride back…”

“And they just left,” Christian says, smiling.

I roll my eyes. “Fine,” I grumble, going back towards our booth to grab my bag and wrap, the music pounding in my ears. I see Elliot and Leila standing at the bar, and walk over to them before walking out with Christian. “If I don’t show up in class on Monday…”

Elliot smirks and kisses my cheek good naturedly. “Tell my little brother that I told him he has to behave himself,” he tells me. “Leila and I fully intend to speak with him on Sunday dinner with our parents.”

“My in-laws think very highly of you, Ana,” Leila puts in with a kind smile. “They’re quite like my own mother and father now. They always tell us how sweet and wonderful they think you are.”

I smile at her. “Tell them I appreciate their kind words,” I say, turning to see Christian himself standing at the door, likely on the phone with some high-priority client or a supermodel or high society girlfriend. “Goodness knows that they could have taught _him_ a thing or two when it comes to manners...”

Leila laughs, giving me a hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she whispers in a sisterhood kind of way before releasing me.

I walk towards the door and am shocked when Christian takes my wrap from beneath my arm and drapes it on me himself. He opens the door for me and hands the valet a twenty-dollar bill like its candy. “It’s the 2017 black Cadillac,” he tells him, before the man disappears into the parking garage.

I roll my eyes in his lame attempt to impress me. “They have halfway-decent security cameras here, I hope?” I ask nonchalantly.

“Want footage of your finest hour?” he asks sarcastically.

I fight the urge to slap him; I wasn’t some low-down country hick who had never seen a luxury car before. “You’re just disgusting and loathsome, Grey,” I reply more than a little heatedly as he smirks beside me.

“I’ve been called worse,” he puts in.

I roll my eyes. “I don’t want footage of me in some overpriced car—I could care less about a damned car,” I reply, speaking through my teeth. “I want to know if what Ethan did to me will hold up in court.”

Immediately, he snaps to attention; I am speaking his language, after all. “Do you want to take him for everything he’s got?” Christian asks.

I shake my head at him as the valet returns with Christian’s overpriced car in the flesh. I find I am shivering under my wrap at the cold and callous thoughts running through me then. “No, of course I don’t want that,” I reply as Christian thanks the man and we get in. I make myself comfortable, tugging my skirt farther down so that it reaches my knees. “I don’t want any money from him—I don’t want to be bought. I make a decent salary teaching.”

Christian smirks as we drive off, obviously amused by my chivalry. “You can key in your address into the navigation system.”

I lean forward and key in 134 Ashgrove Terrace. Sitting back, I purse my lips at the notion that Christian would think so low of me to think I would demand some ludicrous sum in order to get comeuppance for Ethan. “Please understand, I don’t care about the money I would likely get in a lawsuit, honestly,” I tell him. “I want Ethan to go to AA for at least a month and a decent, not half-assed apology.”

Christian nods to himself, mulling over my statement. “Anything else? Do you want him to register as a sex offender?”

“That’s not for me to decide,” I easily reply, pulling my cape closer around me. “But, given the opportunity, he should, so as to protect other women out there. We all of us live in a completely internet-dependent age, as I’m sure you know. This could really help other women who become seduced by his kind words and generous gifts…”

Christian looks impressed at my reply as we exit Downtown proper. “More power to you,” he says quietly. “If only more women were like you were, Ana.” We continue up a hill through the darkness, passing various streets that I haven’t bothered to analyze. “How do you feel about your brother and Kate?”

I shrug; I’m not even going to begin to question how he knew such a thing, or anything, for that matter, anymore. “It was always a possibility since high school. I love my brother and I love Kate. I wouldn’t not wish them to be together and happy. After years of being caught in the middle of each of them professing their love for the other, but seemingly practicing on me, was beginning to wear on me. I don’t know. I guess you could say I’m getting an ‘at last’ kind of feeling…”

He nods, letting my words die down for a moment before he decides to speak again. “So, tell me, why did you go into teaching?”

I am surprised by the detour of the conversation. “What?”

He smirks a little in amusement at my surprise. “I’m just curious. I mean, you’ve got a captivating face on a good day, and your vocabulary is by no means minimal,” he says, and looks over at me for a moment.

“Give me a moment and sift through there for a compliment of some kind,” I say, and catch Christian smirking.

“No, I’m serious, Ana,” he tells me. “Why didn’t you become a writer?”

I shrug, forcing myself not to look or sound surprised. “Well, after more than a dozen publishers refuse various forms of a manuscript you provide them with, it becomes discouraging,” I say quietly.

Christian is silent, his mouth becoming a hard line as he takes in my apparent bitterness at the real-world reality of wanting to become a published author. We make another couple of turns, but he studies me from time to time, letting me know that he’s interested in what I have to say. I force myself to look away from him.

“You feel as if you’ve dug yourself into a hole,” he says quietly, “and you don’t even begin to consider that you can dig yourself out by writing—even if it’s writing about your feelings of complete despair.”

I raised my eyebrows, shocked. “Yeah. I mean, you begin to wonder why you even began writing in the first place. I guess you could say that I became so absorbed in discouragement from people that were deemed to be professionals that I didn’t even consider doing anything about it, except closing myself off to that world. I don’t let anyone—except, of course Kate and on the rare occasion Theodore—read my work.”

“What do you write?”

“Stories about life,” I say, feeling like an inferior idiot in front of him. “Historical fiction. I write sometimes about women who could have lived—close friends of important people of the period, also women. I like to show how love hasn’t changed over time, but the rights of women truly have.”

“When?” he asks.

“The 1500’s, usually. In England.”

“Ah, so Henry the Eighth and things like that.”

“Yes,” I reply, pleased to speak to someone who apparently knew their English monarchs; the famous ones, at the very least. “I’ve been captivated by the man since the age of twelve or thirteen. I would use the five-minute break between classes to dive back in to the world that was so far beyond my reach. I couldn’t bring myself to even consider that time travel was impossible. I’d have given anything to leap back and to see it for myself. I always felt inferior to this time period, as far back as I can remember…” I trail off, wondering why on earth Christian would even want to hear about an average person like me.

We get to the foothills without much conversation, as Christian expertly navigates his way through the darkness of the twists and turns of Seattle. “I love meeting people who are passionate about what they love to do,” he says softly, getting into my neighborhood now. “I mean, I’m sure you chose the practical thing and got a degree in something you could work with. Yet, it sounds to me as if you didn’t truly give up on your dream.”

“But I’m not sending anything in right now,” I protest as we turn onto Maplewood, the street before mine.

Christian nods. “I know that. But you didn’t stop writing, Ana. That’s the horrible drawback about society today, isn’t it? Most people, after a dozen rejections from folks deemed to be professionals, would give up writing entirely. They wouldn’t even consider writing after the supposed experts who they looked up to said they didn’t have what it takes. You’re different in that respect, Ana. Despite what they said, you never truly gave up.” He pulls up outside the condo, looking up at it, the kitchen and living room lights still on. “This you?” he wants to know, and turns to look at me.

I nod, almost not wanting to leave the car due to the stimulating and altogether intellectual conversation. “Yes, it’s me,” I say, going to unbuckle my seatbelt. “I’m sorry we only talked about me. I would have liked to hear about your work.” I practically kick myself for sounding so polite and nonchalant as I spoke to the top lawyer in Seattle.

Christian chuckles, and I curse myself for getting goosebumps at that delicious sound coming forth from his alluring lips. “From what I understand, Miss Steele, was that you weren’t very pleased with my demeanor this morning, and for that I apologize. I could say that my girlfriend broke up with me, or that a case was going badly.”

“Is that it?” I asked, my voice rising an octave, and his dark eyes become darker still at my curiosity about his personal life. “Did a case go badly, or did... Did your girlfriend break up with you?”

He smiles. “I said I could’ve said that, but neither was the case, I’m afraid,” he continues, regarding every inch of my face before he says his next sentence with a degree of finality that doesn’t sit well with me, and the very fact that I find myself hanging on his every word doesn’t altogether help the direct circumstances either. “I don’t date, Ana, and my cases always end well.”

“Coincidences always crop up in the oddest places,” I say softly to myself, gripping my bag close to me.

“How’s that?” Christian asks.

I sigh, not wanting to answer him but not wanting to be rude either. “In case you haven’t noticed, Christian, I don’t date either. Although I suppose my outer appearance would judge that I wasn’t good enough.” I lower my eyes, feeling like an idiot for opening up to him, as well as lowering my eyes like that, for he could think I was vulnerable.

Christian laughs softly, almost as if he is willing to communicate to me that he doesn’t necessarily pity me, yet he understands my meaning, or, rather, my insecurity with the outside world, as well as the opposite sex, neither of which I’d had particularly good luck in over the years. “I work too much,” he says simply. “I’ve had a total of four girlfriends in my life, Ana, and they all ended badly. I like winning, Ana, so when I’m ready to win—and I find the girl who’s the winner, she’s mine, no matter what.”

“Well, that’s a good outlook on it,” I say, knowing that I really should get out of the car soon, as the tension between us both was becoming palpable, and I knew I’d never live it down if it began and ended, which it was likely to do. It is after eleven, and while I haven’t had a curfew since the age of seventeen, I knew that I should be up by nine the next morning to grade a few papers. “I guess I haven’t found the right person. I mean, I’m sure the whole city will know of the last action I got…”

“Being mauled in the back of The Electric Violin doesn’t constitute action,” he replies in a heated voice, and my eyes snap to his hands, which are gripping the steering wheel before him; his knuckles are completely white. “What Ethan was doing was wrong, illegal, immoral, and just plain disgusting. It was sick, Ana, _sick_. I always knew he had a problem holding his liquor, but that’s no excuse. You told him ‘no’, and he didn’t listen to you. That’s enough for a judge.”

I turn and look at him, shocked, my mouth flapping open like some kind of undersea creature stranded up on land “And why would someone like you want to help someone like me?” I ask him, shocked. “I’m just an average teacher…”

He looks away. “You’re far better than average,” he says under his breath before turning back to me. “Because, I think we really could be friends. I know that your first impression of me—about twelve hours ago—wasn’t very good. I apologize for that. Ava had been all hyped up because he never gets to stay with me and he accidentally ruined something my grandfather specifically left for me, and I suppose I took it out on him. I know that sounds pathetic, but it meant a lot to me.”

I nod at him. “I understand.” I lean forward slightly, so as the street lamp above us catches me in its trail of light. “This locket is the only thing left to me by my grandmother. My father’s parents are deceased and my mother’s mother is as well. My mother’s father doesn’t give a hoot about me—all he cares about is Theo. He comes from a generation where girls weren’t really wanted, I suppose.”

Christian smiles. “Some people don’t see the goodness in others.”

I nod at him, feeling strange that I could find any amount of common ground with this beautiful man. “I guess you’re right.” I turn to his dashboard, where his clock states that it is getting close to midnight. “Oh, no. I’ve got to get up at a certain time tomorrow to grade papers…”

“You’re lucky I know you’re a teacher,” Christian tells me, getting out of the car himself before I can stop him, rounds it, and letting me out. He holds out his hand, and I offer it to him. He gently pulls me to my feet, and our eyes meet for a moment.

I quickly break the gaze; how I wanted to have the courage to invite him in, but I knew I wasn’t nearly that brave. “Well, I’ll just go upstairs now…”

Christian nods, dropping my hand. “All right.”

“Thanks for the ride, and for the talk,” I say, stepping away from him and walking up the street. I turn left and go up the stairs, waiving to him as I slip into the darkness. I go to unlock the main door, and it is then that I hear his engine revving behind me, before he goes up the street and turns the corner, going out of sight.

Sighing to myself, I step into the main hallway, locking the door behind me as I go towards the elevator. I press the button and it opens for me. Thankfully it is empty as I step inside, and I ride all the way up to the third floor without incident. Stepping out into the hallway, I go to our condo door, unlock it, and step inside. Tess ambushes me for attention at once, and I pick her up, bringing her into my bedroom.

I set her down on the bed as I proceed to undress, not bothering to get a look at myself in the mirror, as I didn’t think I could handle it. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, I give a cursory glance at the mirror, but one look at a bruised thumbprint on the back of my shoulder quickly causes me to turn around and grit my teeth. In an effort to distract myself completely, I quickly plug my phone into the wall and breathe a sigh of relief as my heels come off, for they’d already become a second layer of skin. I fumble ever so slightly for a moment as I attempt to re-learn how to stand properly without them.

Just as I slip into a pair of plaid, flannel pants and a tank top, my phone suddenly decides to vibrate, disturbing my momentary solace. Perplexed, I lift it, gazing at the screen until I see a picture of my parents’ living room. Raising my eyebrows, words follow the picture message, stating, quite clearly, to me: _It’s finally happening! _It is then that I see that the name attached to it is Kate’s, and I roll my eyes.

I set my alarm for ten a.m. before allowing Tess into the crook of my arm before drifting off to sleep.

. . .

I awake to the alarm the next morning, as well as Tess yowling for her breakfast quickly following suit. Rolling my eyes, I switch off the alarm and get out of bed, a momentary moan of protest at the cooler temperature around me escaping from my lips. Quickly, I run a brush through my hair, I open my bedroom door and Tess bolts out towards the kitchen. Stepping into the kitchen myself, I fill our kettle with water and set it to boil for my morning cup of tea. With Tess still feline screeching in my ear, I quickly give her some duck tuna for breakfast before logging into my email to check any updates.

There are several catalog ads which I promptly delete, rolling my eyes at some of the ridiculous fashion choices certain companies choose to make. There is a backlog of several emails from my parents, with various pictures of their vacation, and I quickly type a reply to each of them, informing them that I can’t wait to see them the following week, and commenting on their hotel, the sights, and the museums my mother has successfully managed to drag my father to. I leave out what happened with Ethan, because that’s just not something you put into an email.

My kettle boils and I pour myself a cup of black tea. Adding three spoonfuls of sugar to it, and adding a generous amount of my lactose-free milk, I return to my computer. I perch on my seat for a moment, going over schedules for the following week, and consider what would happen if I were to take some time off. Given what had happened to me, if I chose to pursue a legal route, it would likely eat into my teaching time, and I would likely need a breather in between...

Going back to my email, I am very perplexed to see one from the following address, which just so happens to be [ChristianGreylawyerman@outlook.com](mailto:alexberkshawlawyerman@outlook.com). Feeling my lips twitch up at the seemingly informality of it all, I click on it.

**From**: Christian Grey ([ChristianGreylawyerman@outlook.com](mailto:alexberkshawlawyerman@outlook.com))

**To**: Anastasia Steele ([AnastasiaSteelewannabeauthor@outlook.com](mailto:seraphinarichardsonwannabeauthor@outlook.com))

**Subject**: Last Night

_Dear Ana_,

_I very much enjoyed our conversation last night…erm, almost early this morning, I suppose one could say. _

_I’ve spoken to my good friend, Judge Donohue, and she’s adamant that we get your situation with Ethan taken care of. She says that what Ethan did to you constitutes as sexual assault and that it falls under the umbrella term of “Indecent Liberties”. This is what is called a Class A Felony and it means that Ethan could face up to life in prison or and/or a $50,000 dollar fine._

_I know that you said that you didn’t want Ethan to pay out the nose—which he will do anyway attempting to defend himself—but physical evidence is a must. I called the company that Ethan bought the restaurant from, and there are indeed cameras on the premises. Ethan is a dead duck, to put it lightly, and if he remembers the situation clearly enough, he will attempt to make sure that the security company never releases, or erases the footage entirely. _

_Please get back to me on what action you would like to take. At the very least, Ethan should be arrested._

_Please, Ana, this is important._

_Sincerely,_

_Christian Grey_

_Attorney at Law_

I shake my head, putting it into my hands, wanting to ignore the throbbing ebbing just beneath my temples. Looking at the time it was sent, I see it was done around eight-thirty that morning. Knowing that Christian needs a quick answer, I hit “reply”.

**From**: Ana Steele ([AnastasiaSteelewannabeauthor@outlook.com](mailto:seraphinarichardsonwannabeauthor@outlook.com))

**To**: Christian Grey ([ChristianGreylawyerman@outlook.com](mailto:alexberkshawlawyerman@outlook.com))

**Subject**: The Case (if there is one)

_Dear Christian,_

_Yes, I enjoyed our conversation as well, thank you. Never fear, you had me home around eleven-thirty, so it didn’t break my curfew or anything like that. I graduated high school at seventeen, so by the time I turned eighteen, I was out of school and into college…not that I was ever into partying or breaking curfew or anything like that…_

_Judge Martha Donahue? Yes, I’ve seen her interviewed. She comes off very well, very approachable, and very intelligent. I’ve never even heard of the term “Indecent Liberties”, to be honest with you. I mean, I’ve heard of sexual assault and rape, but most people have. I guess you could say that specifics when it comes to this sort of thing, meaning negotiations, aren’t my strong suit. _

_No. I don’t want Ethan to get life in prison or get saddled with a $50,000 fine; I just can’t do it. Kate would never forgive me for putting her family through all that. I’m sure you know of their situation, and I can’t have her relying on Gia and Scott forever for family things, because she certainly wouldn’t come to me anymore._

_I think I would like to talk to Judge Donahue about “physical evidence”. I don’t really feel comfortable discussing it with you at this time. I know you think that you must be privy to this information, but I haven’t asked you to be my lawyer, nor have you agreed to take me on yet._

_So, in a sense, if Ethan calls the security company and demands the access to the footage of him assaulting me, then he’s a dead man? Will you be keeping tabs on his phone records as well? I know we depend so much on electronics that you could be able to find some evidence down that road, surely. I know you want to help, but this is scary to me. To be honest, I barely remember anything happening. I blocked it out…_

_Sincerely,_

_Anastasia Steele,_

_Fourth Grade Teacher,_

_Ivy Door Academy_


	4. The Source of Betrayal

I take a break from grading papers around two o’clock to heat up some leftover macaroni and cheese for lunch. As I heat my slice in the oven, I log back in to my email account. There is another picture from my parents, and I see that the pair of them have now managed to perfect the selfie.

To my dread, there is another one from Christian as well.

**From**: Christian Grey ([ChristianGreylawyerman@outlook.com](mailto:alexberkshawlawyerman@outlook.com))

**To**: Anastasia Steele ([AnastasiaSteelewannabeauthor@outlook.com](mailto:seraphinarichardsonwannabeauthor@outlook.com))

**Subject**: Oh, There is Indeed a Case

_Dear Ana,_

_First and foremost, I love your full name. I am considering referring to you as such from now on._

_I completely understand you’re not wanting to discuss the specifics of what happened between you and Ethan at present. I haven’t formally taken you on yet, and we haven’t fully decided to be friends, so I really have no way to make you tell me anything. I have a good friend named Marlee who has been with the firm for four years and specializes in cases like these. She would be able to help you. I’ll set up a meeting with the two of you if you would like._

_Yes, many people do not understand the many tunnels you must pass through in order to obtain any degree in law. With this particular junction that we would convict Ethan, he would indeed have either payment or a lifetime behind bars, unless you requested leniency, or if the judge believed that it was necessary or appropriate in this case. I understand that you have a deep friendship with Ethan, as well as his family, but what he did was wrong, as I am sure the footage will show._

_I’ve set up a meeting with you and Judge Donahue for two weeks from Monday at around five p.m. Can that work for you? She knows what your job is so she is willing to work around that. I do hope it works for you, Anastasia. Martha owed me a favor._

_Well, since we do not pursue the death penalty for rapists—anymore, you will find that a man was arrested, convicted, and sentenced to die in California’s gas chamber in the last century for kidnapping and rape, and was indeed killed in the gas chamber—Ethan being a dead man would not make sense. It will implicate him, of course, which would be good for the persecution, not so much for the defense. If he shows any suspicious behavior in the coming days —I’m usually in the restaurant three or four times a week—then we’ll see about potentially tapping his phone. _

_You not remembering the attack clearly scares me, to be honest. I advise that you meet with Kit O’Hara, a top-notch hypnotherapist. She’s amazing and she’ll be able to help you. Let me know if you want me to make the appointment for you. I do want to help, Anastasia. Don’t worry, I’m sure it will all work itself out. I know this could turn into a potentially frightening situation, but also know that you could be saving someone else from him. Also, I strongly suggest that you make an appointment with a physician to ascertain exactly what happened last night._

_Sincerely,_

_Christian Grey,_

_Attorney at Law_

I sigh, pushing away from the computer. I pick up my phone checking for messages, ignoring the ones from Kate and Theodore. Getting onto my contacts section, I find Dr. Greene’s telephone number, and swipe it so as the phone will call. I’d seen Dr. Greene from the time I was about sixteen; I had gotten birth control from her, although that wasn’t really necessary, considering that I wasn’t as active as many people my age. I was very thankful that she also worked every day except Sunday.

“Hello, Dr. Greene’s office. This is her assistant, Chloe. How may I help you this afternoon?”

“Hey, Chloe. My name is Anastasia Steele. I’ve been a patent with Dr. Greene for about six years.”

“Oh, yes, Miss Steele,” comes the steady reply. “I am pulling your file. It looks as if you’re overdue for a physical.”

“Oh, I see,” I say, considering that as I carefully take the mac and cheese out of the oven; I knew I really shouldn’t have been multi-tasking right then, but I _was _starving... “When is Dr. Greene’s next appointment, please?”

“Just let me look over the books for a moment,” Chloe replies, and I hear various papers shuffling around. “It looks like someone called about an hour ago with a cancellation. It is for four-fifteen. Would that work for you?”

“Yes,” I reply, forcing my voice not to shake, despite the notion that I was getting somewhere positive. “Is she in the office now?”

“She is. Just got back from lunch about a half an hour ago. There are about fifteen minutes until her next appointment. Would you like me to transfer you over to her?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“No problem. I’ll set up that appointment for you.”

“Thank you.” Cheap-sounding music greets my ears as I chew and swallow my sinful meal, the melted cheese comforting me slightly. Tucking my ankles under my legs, I await Dr. Greene’s answer to my call.

“Thank you for holding. Dr. Greene here,” comes her familiar voice.

“Hey, Dr. Greene, this is Anastasia Steele.”

“Oh, Anastasia, how are you? I heard Chloe giving my cancellation to someone else,” she says, and I can almost see her giggling, her blonde curls bouncing slightly. “I do hope that was you. She may have mentioned you were overdue for your physical. According to my charts, you were due about eight months ago now…”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Yes, it was. Thank you. I really need to get in to see you as soon as possible.”

“Is everything all right?” she asks, the concern in her voice mounting. “I don’t want anything untoward happening to you…”

I shake my head, again forgetting that she’s not sitting across from me. “It’s not something I’d care to discuss over the phone.”

“I understand completely, dear,” she said, authoritative yet considerate. “Certain things are not meant to be discussed over the phone anyhow. Well, I’ll see you around four, then so that you and I can discuss it properly.”

“Thank you, yes. Goodbye, Dr. Greene,” I say before hanging up.

. . .

Carefully putting Christian’s last email out of my mind, I quickly dress in a pair of outside-the-house appropriate sweatpants, a different tank top, and put on my gray sweater to round it all out. Quickly brushing my hair, I secure it into a ponytail before yanking on a pair of socks and stepping into some sneakers. I bid goodbye to Tess, after making sure that she has enough kibble and put my bag over my shoulder before stepping out of the condo and locking the door behind me.

I check the time and see that it is three-forty-five as I press the elevator button to go down to the parking garage. Taking into account potential traffic, as well as the mandatory forms I will have to fill out at Dr. Greene’s office, and the likely difficulty that I’d encounter finding a parking space, I had just enough time to get there. I step into the parking garage, find my car, unlock it, get inside, and navigate my way out of there without incident.

There is only light traffic along the road, and I manage to get to the First Hill area without too much trouble. Going into a nearby parking garage, I park there before getting out and getting the elevator to the proper avenue outside. I walk along the street and, checking the time, see that it is barely four. I go into the Starbucks just nearby and order a Grande double chocolatey chip Frappuccino and pay before getting upstairs to the fifth floor to Dr. Greene’s area of the hospital. I greet Chloe in person, making brief small talk before she hands over the paperwork and tells me to take a seat.

I fill in my name, the date, my social security number, and tons of the other miscellaneous information required on a medical form. I just finish signing my name for the sixth or seventh time on the final page of the last form, when a pair of feet stops about three feet in front of me. Looking up, I see Nurse Cassidy, a kindly middle-aged woman who more often than not takes care of me before Dr. Greene sees me. Nurse Cassidy gives me a smile and beckons me to follow her to the back. I hand over the clip board with the important documents and follow her.

“You got a haircut,” I say, smiling at her. “It looks really nice.”

“Thank you, dear,” she replies, tugging a bit at her above-the-shoulder length, dark brown hair. “I just thought it was time.”

I nod, understanding. “Well, it really suits you.”

“Thank you,” she replies, touched. “Are your parents still on that vacation? I remember you mentioning that they’d just booked it last time you were in here. What was that? About nine months or so ago?”

I nod. “Yeah, that sounds right. I was picking up some information on the residency program for Theodore, and you reminded me that I was overdue for a physical,” I explain.

“And how is Theodore?”

I smile, my pride for my brother never behind a mask. “He’s well, thank you. He just got back from Columbia University last night. He’s starting the program here next month.”

We get to the designated room and I’m told to strip down into a hospital gown and I do so, while Nurse Cassidy types up all my recent information from the forms into the computer. I perch on the edge of the examination table, watching the way her hands fly above the key board, remembering when I, too could type that fast. Since I’d started teaching, however, my writing had been neglected to the back-burner, and my typing had suffered, as a direct result of said neglect. I let my legs dangle for a moment before crossing them in a self-conscious and slightly self-deprecating manner.

Nurse Cassidy peaks over her shoulder at me and smiles. “Well, I’ll bet you’re happy that you have Theodore back in town.”

“I am, really,” I say, smiling a little. “We all celebrated it all last night at The Electric Violin—you know, the restaurant owned by Kate’s older brother, Ethan. It’s about ten minutes from here.”

“Oh, yes, that one,” she says, smiling a bit and nodding in recognition. “I popped in there a few weeks back when I finally had a good night off. I finally got to meet Ethan. He’s such a delightful young man.”

I cross my legs again, this time tucking them beneath my chin, suddenly feeling violated all over again.

“Oh,” Nurse Cassidy says, peering closely at the third or fourth page of the documents in front of her, not noticing my discomfort as she skims over what I’ve written, which will be of the utmost importance to this appointment. “It mentions that you were physically assaulted last night?”

I nod, biting my lip. “Yes, I was,” I reply, beginning to shiver all over as I attempt to remember exactly what happened.

Nurse Cassidy turns to look at me, her dark eyes concerned. “Well, I’ll get Dr. Greene in here right away to examine you.”

“Thank you,” I reply.

Nurse Cassidy quickly breezes through the final pages of the documents before giving me a nod and stepping out of the room.

I begin rocking back and forth on the examination table, tears pricking my eyes and managing to escape through my lashes and leave damp trails down my face. I put my face in my hands, feeling utterly pathetic as I contemplate what happened last night. All I remember is going in the back for some space, Ethan following me, grabbing me, and then Christian being there. But I was one-hundred-percent sure that there was a blank between the time Ethan grabbed me and the time Christian arrived.

Why had I been so angry? Any woman had a right to be angry if a man grabbed her without permission, and continued touching her, but why had I reacted so strongly to it? It was all a mystery.

Dr. Greene arrived soon thereafter, giving me a smile and greeting me kindly. She picked up my documents and looked over them, taking in a sharp breath when she got to the page where I briefly detailed the assault. Turning to me, she asked, “Can you tell me who assaulted you?”

“Ethan,” I replied, “Kate’s older brother.”

She nods, taking a seat and flipping to a fresh page on her notebook. “Tell me what happened.”

I sighed then, knowing I that the time to speak was now. “I was talking to a parent of one of my students—Leila Grey was her name, we’ve become friends—when Ethan came up. This was all at his restaurant, The Electric Violin. So as I said, Leila and I were talking, and Ethan approached me. He’d been a little handsy at the dinner table that night—we were all celebrating Theodore coming home.”

“Nurse Cassidy told me that he was joining the residency program here next month. I’m sure you’re very proud.”

“I am,” I say softly. “Really I am... But Ethan, he... He’s always had a bit of a drinking problem, and I guess I should have been on my guard, more than usual, at least, because of how he was behaving at dinner...”

Dr. Greene reaches out and grips my hand. “I just want to impress upon you that none of this is your fault, Ana, none of it.”

I lower my eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper, before continuing. “When he came up to me and Leila, he asked if he could steal me away for a dance. I said yes because I totally didn’t mind—we’d be in front of other people, so I figured I’d be safe, and so we went to dance. It was all normal for a few moments, but then he and I got on the subject of love and romance and relationships and all that. He seemed a bit miffed because Kate and Theodore had started a relationship that evening—after years of being attracted to each other. He asked me how I felt about them being together.”

“And what did you say?” Dr. Greene asked.

I shook my head, trying to remember every word of the conversation. “I said that it was great, because they’d liked each other since high school. Theodore couldn’t ask Kate to the prom because he’d left the school two years before to begin classes at the University to Washington to get a jump start on his medical career. He waited too long because he was cramming for a final, and she found a different date, and so did he. I explained to Ethan that, even though we’d grown up together, that the two of them dating shouldn’t matter, because they’re two adults. He made it seem like, since we were all like siblings, that he didn’t think it was okay, but I said that, since none of us were really siblings at all, that nothing was wrong with it.”

“And then what happened?”

I sigh. “I think that Ethan got all jazzed up about my statement. I knew, I guess, that somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that he had feelings for me. I never returned those feelings—he was like a big brother to me, even after he started to get handsy when we were in high school...and then...and then...”

“What, Ana?” Dr. Greene asked.

I lowered my eyes. “And then he kissed me.”

“He kissed you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you kiss him back?”

“No.”

“Then what happened?”

I grip the sides of the seat, thinking that another form of pressure would ease the pain of taking about another form of pain entirely. “I thought I did the sensible thing. I walked away from the situation. I walked to the back, where the restrooms, and the drinking fountain, was. I got a drink, to clear my head, and when I turned around, there he was. I attempted to tell him ‘no’ again, but he didn’t listen…”

“What did Ethan do then?”

Biting my lip, I reach back up behind me and feel the hotness of the bump from the night before, where he had slammed my head back into the wall in a moment of uncontrollable rage as if had flowed through him in the moments leading up to his following me. Perhaps that was how I blacked out… “He kissed me again,” I go on. “He kissed me again and grabbed me and slammed me against the wall. I kept saying ‘no’, and told him to stop, but he didn’t listen. He seemed…turned on…”

“Why do you think that?”

“He was breathing heavily,” I reply, my voice shaking. “And I felt him…against my leg. I remember screaming into his mouth and, when he would kiss in other places, he’d cover my mouth to keep me from screaming. I remember…hurting…down there…and that’s when I kicked him.”

“You kicked him?”

“Yes. In defense. I kicked him in the balls.”

A wry smile appears momentarily on Dr. Greene’s mouth before it immediately disappears for she knows that she had to be professional. I watch her write hurriedly before tapping her pen momentarily and chewing on its end. “And then what?”

“And then Christian showed up.”

“Who’s Christian?”

“Christian is Leila’s brother-in-law. He was there with them that night. He knew Ethan, and told me that he believes Ethan has had a bit of an alcohol problem.”

“How did you get home that night?”

“Christian took me. He’s a lawyer and told me that I should probably get some legal help when it came to my situation with Ethan.”

“He’d be right,” Dr. Greene replied, finishing her writing and hesitating for a moment. She set her notebook and pen aside, before getting to her feet and going towards the sink at the opposite end of the room. As she washed her hands over the chrome basin, she turned around halfway and spoke over her shoulder to me. “It looks like I’m going to have to give you a vaginal exam,” she says quietly. “The authorities—and everyone else—will want to see what happened.”

I nod, lying back as Dr. Greene dries her hands and snaps on a pair of examination gloves. She asks me to remove my underwear and I do so, then allow her to place my feet in the stirrups. She pulls her chair so as she can look at me properly, and shines a light, the heat sending tingles of discomfort through me.

“It’s all okay,” she says, briefly touching my leg to calm me. “Oh…”

“What?”

She sighs. “It’s all right,” she replies. “I need to know, Ana… Are you a virgin?”

I nod. “Yes.”

Dr. Greene shuts her eyes for a moment before opening them again and peers back at me for a moment. Then, she reaches forward and gently touches me to exam me, and I let out a small scream.

“Is that where it hurts?” she asks.

“Yes…” I whimper.

“Based on this, I think Ethan penetrated you with something,” she tells me. “I need to know if you remember hearing him unzip something.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

She nods. “Well, then it was probably his finger. Could Ethan have put his finger inside you?” she asks.

I nod. “Yes. He has a callus on his right index finger. I remembered feeling something slightly spherical when I felt the pain…down there.”

“Did you shower last night or today?” she whispers.

I shook my head at her. “No. I was too tired from last night and when I woke up, I got caught up in some work…”

“Good,” she tells me, getting to her feet.

I sit up slightly. “Good?” I ask her.

Dr. Greene nods as she walks to the door. “That’s very good,” she replies, and opens the door; I can hear her heels briefly as she goes to find a nurse. “Nurse Cassidy, I’m going to need a rape kit in Exam Room Three.”

“Rape kit?” I ask, feeling my eyes widen.

Dr. Greene sighs and comes back toward the examination table. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you, Ana. You can’t know how sorry. To have your trust violated like that is a very hurtful thing. I’m afraid I have to administer a full exam here and gather evidence to hand over to the authorities about this assault. I know it can be a violating thing, but I really believe that it is the best thing for you at this time.”

I lower my eyes. “All right. Assemble away.”

. . .

The findings weren’t much better. They move me to a large and private exam room before taking samples of DNA from where Ethan had debased me and I’m left feeling violated all over again. They decide to give me some time alone, and I curl myself into a fetal position and begin to sob. When they say that they found evidence of sexual assault, and I just can’t believe it. They’ve called police, and I’m expected to talk to them.

I check my phone and Theodore—through a short text—has informed me that he and Kate have picked up Mom and Dad from the airport. My mind snaps—that means that their phones will be in service again. Feeling a ray of hope, I quickly dial my mother’s number, dread filling me once again as it rings more than three times. The hope shines again when she picks up on the fourth ring.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

“Oh, Mama,” I say, feeling my lower lip trembling as I begin to sob.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m…at the hospital,” I manage to get out.

“What are you doing there? Aren’t you overdue for your physical?”

“That was the original intent of the visit,” I say quietly to her. “But it seems that something else mattered more…”

“What mattered, honey?” she asks me, concerned. “Oh, god, Ana, you’re not… You’re not pregnant, are you honey?”

“No!” I cry out, wondering if that would be a better alternative.

“I’m sorry, baby. What’s happened?”

“I’ve been sexually assaulted,” I reply.

“Baby… Baby, what are you talking about?” she asks, and I sense the panic behind her voice. “Baby, tell me you’re joking…”

“I wouldn’t joke about this,” I say, trying my best to keep the anger out of my voice as I feel the tears pricking my eyes again. “Mama, I’m sorry…so, so sorry for everything, I…”

“You’re in with Dr. Greene?”

“Well, she’s seeing other patients now,” I reply lamely. “But, I mean, she _was_ the one who examined me…”

“Good, good,” she replies, her tone steadying. “We’ll be there promptly, darling. Your father and I will bring along Theodore and Kate, too. I need you to know that I’m coming, baby. I know you need me.”

“I do need you,” I reply.

My room had a rather large window seat, to which I’d escaped from my bed, and looked outside at the skyline, many tall buildings, as well as the passerby.

I looked up at the knock at my door about twenty minutes later. Perhaps it was the Jell-O I’d asked for fifteen minutes ago. Maybe it was Dr. Greene coming to check up on me. Maybe it was neither of those things…

“Come in,” I said, half expecting that another police officer would demand to talk to me. Tears fell from my eyes as I saw my parents, who had been gone six weeks. I reached up like a child and let them hold me, as I sobbed in their arms, never wanting to leave the safety of their embrace ever again.

“Who the hell would do something so terrible?!” Theodore demanded, as soon as I’d calmed down enough to talk to them all. “I’d like to give that rat bastard a piece of my mind! To kick him right in the—”

“Theodore!” Kate cried, who by this time had her arm around me. “Don’t say things like that! Ana needs our comfort right now. Whoever it is, we need to be there to love and support her.”

I sigh. “I hope you remember that statement when I tell you who did this to me,” I say softly to her, my shoulders shaking with dry sobs.

Kate turns and gives me a confused look at that. “What? No matter who it was, I’m on your side, Ana. You know that.”

I shake my head. “I just don’t know if you can keep your promise.”

“Ana, you’re my best friend!” she says defensively, almost as if she is angered that I would doubt her sincerity. “We’ve lived together since graduation, and I was always crashing at your place through the years, and especially after my folks split. No matter who it is, I’m there. Whatever you want, whatever you need.”

“And that goes for all of us, kitten,” my dad says to me, his hazel eyes—the ones I’d inherited—looking concerned from behind his glasses. “You know as well as I do that I’ve got some good lawyer connections, baby. We’ll get you the best lawyer out there, no matter what the cost.”

“That’s right, William,” my mother says before turning to me. “We’ll get you a council if we have to. We’ll get a female judge if we can.” She gently pulls at my hair, moving it into place, sighing a bit as she always does because, though our hair is the same, hers is much more manageable than mine.

My father sighs at her. “Carla, please. Enough with Ana’s hair right now. She’s been through a hard day.”

“Night,” I reply. “It happened last night.”

“You left The Electric Violin with Christian Grey last night,” Kate says softly, peering into my face. “Is he the one who did this to you?!”

“I’ll kill him,” Theodore growls, immediately taking out his phone, his free hand morphing into a fist. “What’s his number?”

“Theo, calm down,” I say, shaking my head at him. “No. It wasn’t Christian. It happened at the club, before I left.”

“You were talking with Gia and Scott after dinner,” Theodore says softly, his gaze almost immediately darkening as he considered the unthinkable. “I saw you laughing with Jess. Did Scott catch you unawares?”

“Theo, my god!” Kate cries. “Scott would never do something like that! He comes from a tight-knit Christian family. His parents are ministers for god’s sake. Even though he’s an atheist, he still has a fantastic sense of right and wrong and completely believed in monogamy. He’s proposed to Gia, for goodness sake!”

“It wasn’t Scott,” I reply softly.

“What about Elliot Grey, Christian’s older brother?” Kate asks. “He talked to you last night, didn’t he?”

I nod. “Yes, but only in Leila’s presence.”

“Who’s Leila?” Dad asks.

“Elliot’s wife. She and I have bonded over their little boy, Ava. Remember, I told you two about him? He’s the exceedingly bright young man who somehow knew how to spell and define antidisestablishmentarianism.”

“I don’t even know the definition,” my mother says softly.

“I had to look it up when he told me that he knew the word,” I reply. “I know the word, of course, but the definition surprised me. It has something to do with political positions in the Church of England. Fascinating subject…”

“So it wasn’t Elliot Grey who did this?” Theodore asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Well, do we know him?” Kate demands.

“Oh-ho yeah,” I say, bringing my legs to my chest, effectively closing myself off from her, just in case things turned ugly. “You, all four of you, know him very well.”

There is another knock on my door then and Dr. Greene pops her head in with a kind smile in every direction. “Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Steele, it’s wonderful to see the both of you again. I hope that your trip was wonderful, but I’m sure this can’t have been an easy homecoming for you.”

“No, Dr. Greene, it wasn’t,” Dad puts in.

She nods and turns to Theodore. “Well, Dr. Steele, I hear that you’re going to be a part of the new residency program. All of the doctors just got their list of assignments today, and it looks as if I’ll be supervising you.”

Theodore smiles. “I look forward to it.”

She smiles and turns her blue-eyed gaze to Kate and promptly and politely puts out her hand; it is an automatic gesture, something she has done for years, hundreds of times a day. “Dr. Eliza Greene. You must be Kate Harper. Ana’s told me all about you. I love your columns in _The Seattle Sazerac_; very innovative.”

“Thank you,” Kate replies. “Next week is all about recycled materials and about how they’re becoming a fashion statement.”

“Well, I look forward to reading it,” Dr. Greene says kindly before taking hold of the back of a chair and bringing it forward to face me. She sits down and opens the rather pitiful-looking file in her hands. “Well, Ana, I’ve got your results here. You were indeed sexually assaulted, and it looks as if from our sample, there was a foreign DNA inside you.”

“How is that possible if we didn’t…?” I trail off, uncomfortable with telling everything in front of my parents.

“Your pain also had to do with the fact that you had a piece of an abnormally thick fingernail inside you,” Dr. Greene replies, and I shudder. “Due to your swift kick into the man’s private area, he was attempting to hold on. The nail must have already been loose, but the jolt of pain he felt caused him to fall to the ground, like you told me, thus allowing the nail to break off inside you, thus, DNA evidence. It is being taken to the crime lab to figure out if there are any hits on it.”

“Hits?” my mother asks.

“Hits mean that, if the man who assaulted Ana has been convicted, or brought in, for a similar crime—or any crime, really—then the database will know of it. Thankfully, Ana knows the identity of the man who assaulted her, which is both a devastating and potentially dangerous thing.”

“Was it Ethan?” Theodore demands then, and I feel my eyes lock to his. My twin’s face turns into something else entirely then, and he knew automatically.

You could hear a pin drop; it was so silent in the room.

Kate’s sharp blue eyes immediately snap to Theodore. “I can’t believe you! Now you’re accusing my brother? Is this some sort of witch hunt with you, Theodore?!” she cries, giving him an appalled look.

“I’m trying to get to the bottom of what happened to my sister,” Theodore replies defensively, his gaze locking to mine again before drifting back to hers. “You said to her that you wouldn’t care who it was, that you would stand by her no matter what. Am I understanding that you’re prepared to take Ethan’s side against my sister?”

“She didn’t say it was Ethan,” Kate said quickly, turning to look at me in a reassuring manner. “It wasn’t Ethan, was it Ana? Ethan would never do something like that, I know he wouldn’t. I mean, he’s my brother, and a friend to all of us. He just wouldn’t _do_ something like that…”

“It was Ethan,” I whisper, and I can’t bring myself to even look at her, not now. “Ethan was the one who did this to me.”

Kate laughs uncomfortably. “This is all a joke, isn’t it?” she asks, her eyes flying to Dr. Greene. “Or did you plant this seed in her head?”

Dr. Greene narrows her eyes slightly. “Oh, I’d be very careful and contrite when it comes to what I say right now, Kate. There are policemen waiting to interview Ana to figure out the specifics of what your brother did to her.”

“Lies!” Kate shouts, darting forward and making a grab for my file. Her eyes quickly rove over the words, and she shakes her head. “No… No, no, no! My brother would never do something like…”

“According to Ana, there were cameras in the restaurant,” Dr. Greene says quietly amid Kate’s outbursts. “That means that there is existing footage of Ethan assaulting Ana, and Ana is prepared to testify to that fact.”

“You…you wouldn’t!” Kate cries, the file dropping from her hands as she falls to her knees in front of me. “You wouldn’t betray my brother, Ana, would you?”

“Kate, he assaulted me!” I cry, finally permitting myself to lock eyes with her for the first time. “I deserve justice!”

She shakes her head. “I’ve already told you, he wouldn’t do something like that. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll tell the courts that you were drunk and that you asked him for it. That’s what happened…”

“I’m not going to lie for Ethan, Kate. I’m not lying to anyone. Ethan deserves what he gets.”

“Unless it’s no prison time,” Theodore growls.

“The judge will show leniency,” Kate says desperately. “Ethan is a good person; he wouldn’t do this…”

“What the hell kind of ‘good person’ sexually assaults my sister?!” Theodore demands, and he looks as if he wants to grab Kate and shake her, despite all the years of romantic tension between them, I felt then that he would be on my side, no matter what. “No judge should show leniency to a creep…”

Kate reaches out and slaps Theodore without hesitation. “My brother is not a creep!” she cries out. “Ethan is not a creep!”

“Kate!” my mother cries out in shock at her behavior.

“Lies, all lies!” Kate says again. “Ethan _would not_ do this!” She turns back and looks at me. “I can’t believe you would do this to him, to me, to our family, and now you’re even ruining _my_ relationship…”

“Dr. Greene, can you please get someone to show Kate out?” I ask, my voice wholly icy, knowing that she definitely had to go. “I don’t want her here to continue to blame me for things that did happen and didn’t.”

“I’ll take her,” Dr. Greene says without hesitation, putting a no-nonsense hand upon Kate’s arm, pulling her towards the door. “Come on, Miss Harper. Ana has requested that you leave. Let’s go.”

Kate attempts to wrestle away, but Dr. Greene holds firm, her pale eyes shocked at this unexpected turn of events. “You’re hurting me!” she complains.

“I served as an army nurse after medical school,” Dr. Greene tells her as she takes her to the door. “Trust me, I’ve seen it all.” After she likely hands Kate off to a police officer, Dr. Greene comes back. “I’ve spoken to the officers and they tell me that they can wait until you’re back home to talk to you.”

“I live with Kate,” I say softly. “I can’t just go home—not now…”

“You’re coming home with us,” Mom says firmly. “You know your room is waiting for you, in case you ever needed to come home.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Of course, kitten,” Dad says, kissing my forehead. “You’ve been through a terrible ordeal, and you need your parents and brother at your side, before anything else happens that we can’t prevent...”

“Can she leave?” my mother asks Dr. Greene.

“Yes,” Dr. Greene replies. She hands over a slip of paper to me. “This is a prescription for some anti-anxiety medication. It will keep you calm. You can get it filled at the pharmacy on the way out.”

“But my things…” I say quietly.

“I’ll head over later with Theodore and get them. Just make me a list,” Dad says as the pair of them head out.

“I think your clothes will be in this cupboard,” Mom says as she walks to the other side of the room to give me and Dr. Greene a little space.

“Here is the number and address of a support group,” Dr. Greene says quietly to me. “It’s for victims and survivors. Just think about it. I’m not about to give you homework.”

I chuckle. “Thanks for the reminder,” I tell her. “I’ll have to get my dad to get homework assignments I’m supposed to correct.”

. . .

After filling the prescription, I give Theodore the keys to my car so as he can drive us to our childhood home. Mom and Dad live in the Sunset Hill area, about fifteen to twenty minutes north of my condo. It is right near the beach, and quite close to what is known as Historic Ballard. It is right near my favorite museum, The Nordic Heritage Museum, where I made many day trips as a little girl, fascinated by the history.

Theodore pulls my car into one of the four car garages, one of which will fill the car he intends to buy very soon. He instructs me to wait in the car so that he can walk around and get me, and I chuckle at this behavior, yet say nothing of it, not wanting him to get uncomfortable. I almost protest when he lifts me, but I see the glint in his eye and know full well that I won’t be able to dissuade him in the slightest.

“You really are a piece of work,” I grumble sarcastically to my twin as he carries me through the door and into the house. “Hey, where are Mom and Dad?” I ask immediately, looking around, after being greeted by Tango, their golden retriever with a heart of gold, literally; he was quite close with Tess, thankfully, as well as any other animals he ever came into contact with. “I thought they’d be back by now…”

“Mom took your list and decided to head over to the condo with Dad,” Theodore replied, setting me down in the television room, on the best couch. Tango jumps up and curls himself around my feet. “I thought it would be better than heading over there myself.”

“Oh,” I say softly as Tango inspects my clothing. “I’m really sorry if I ruined things for the two of you…”

“Now, you stop it,” Theodore tells me.

“What?” I ask, spreading my hands in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why are you on my side?”

“Because you’re my sister,” Theodore says simply. He sits down on the coffee table in front of me, staring at me intently. “I may have been in love with Kate since high school, but none of that matters now. She betrayed your friendship with her behavior today. I don’t know why, although I kind of do. I think she sees her loyalty to Ethan as one that is worthy of being of a higher quality than her loyalty to you.”

“Wow…that’s exceedingly and painfully insightful,” I reply, dropping my head dramatically against the pillow behind me. “Are you sure you want to practice medicine? It seems to me that you’d do well being a psychologist…”

He grins. “Well, some of my professors suggested it, although, in the end, they told me that my insight would do well for me in surgery.”

“Well, it seems to me that your professors were right.”

Theodore nods as his phone vibrates. “They just got to the condo,” he says, his eyes quickly scanning the message. “Looks like Kate isn’t home. They are having a little difficulty getting Tess into her cat carrier, but it looks like it’ll work itself out. They got your laptop, various chargers, all of Tess’s food, treats, and toys, her bed, and Mom is taking care of getting fifty-percent of your wardrobe into a sufficient travelling case. They are also going to the store, and Mom says she’ll make anything you want for dinner.”

Seeing as it is after eight o’clock, I know that they will want to go to bed by eleven, as per usual. My own phone buzzes, and I peer at it, fearful that it will be Kate. Thankfully, it is just Mom calling.

“Sweetheart, don’t think of it as an imposition,” Mom tells me. “Come on. Tell me what you want to eat.”

“Your spaghetti and meatballs,” I confess, reaching out to clutch Theodore’s hand. “I’m just so glad that I have all of you around me…”


	5. Cheap Trick

Mom and Dad headed to bed that night at around ten o’clock. They usually sat up in bed reading or watching some T.V. show of their choice before drifting off, but, in any case, when the evening arrived, Theodore and I were left unsupervised. We took in a movie during dinner, one of the _Harry Potter_ films, and afterwards, we were sitting outside on the enclosed back porch. Tess, at ease due to her early exposure to the large family dog, Tango, is curled up and sleeping in my lap, while Tango is at Theodore’s feet.

“What do you think will happen?” I ask quietly.

“With?” Theodore replies.

“You and Kate.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re my brother, and she’s my best friend.”

“Even after the way she acted today?” Theodore wants to know, his brows coming together at her earlier betrayal. “You still give her that title?”

“She was afraid,” I reply. “I know it’s not how I would have reacted…”

“You can’t know that.”

I blink, surprised. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious. What if I assaulted Kate?”

“But you wouldn’t…”

“That’s not the issue, Ana,” he replied, his tone clipped. “I’m being serious here. What if you and…what’s-his-name… were together, and you heard from Kate’s own admission that I’d assaulted her. What would you think?”

“I’d think I’d want to hear your side of things first…”

Theodore turns and looks at me, utterly shocked. “Are you saying that you sympathize with her position?” he demands.

I shrug. “I don’t know, Theodore. All I know is that this isn’t a situation that a person finds themselves in every day. It’s complicated.”

“I’ll give you that, at the very least.” He reaches to the coffee table between us and picks up his bottle of beer. “I just don’t know where it leaves the two of us. We’ve clearly established the fact that we’ve had feelings for each other since high school, but after today…”

“Don’t be totally opposed to it,” I reply. “Kate gets a little high-strung sometimes. Once, when a teacher didn’t give her a high enough grade on one of our term papers, she told him that she absolutely had to do a re-write because she couldn’t allow her grade point average to be destroyed.”

Theodore chuckles at that, taking a swig of his beer. “I will admit that I wanted to yell in an angry manner at her when she suggested that you lie about being drunk. You barely drink as it is, and you’ve never been drunk…”

“The polar opposite of you, in that regard, at least,” I say, stroking Tess in my lap. “I just want her to understand that I wouldn’t lie about a thing like this. And with you, Mom, and Dad going with me to meet Elena Lincoln tomorrow…I guess it’s a lot to take in. But she came highly recommended by Christian, so that’s something…”

Theodore pauses in a moment before taking another sip of beer to look at my face. “You don’t have feelings for Christian, do you?”

I laugh at that. “How could I? I just met the man yesterday morning. Kind of desperate, if you ask me…”

“But you’re attracted to him?” Theodore persists.

I shake my head at him. “It’s too soon to tell,” I reply.

. . .

I wake up around eight-thirty the next morning and, unable to get back to sleep, decide to write a brief reply to Christian’s day-old email. I give him a short report, the cliff notes, on the hectic developments of the day before, including the findings made by Dr. Greene, and Kate’s reaction. I also mentioned my two o’clock appointment with Elena that afternoon, and left it at that.

I got out of bed at that point and saw that it was approaching nine a.m., so I decided to take a shower. All of the bedrooms in the house had an en suite bathroom, which made it far easier to get things done. I stepped onto the cool floor of the room and walked to the shower, getting it to the temperature that I liked. I took a freshly-washed towel from the cupboard above and to the left of the sink and placed it on the counter before stripping off my night clothes and stepping into the warm water.

I hadn’t thought about it before, but now I could wash off all the physical evidence that Ethan had touched me. With the kit assembled by Dr. Greene, I had no further need to be examined that way by anyone. After a few minutes under the water, and using the shampoo and conditioner that my dad had rescued from the condo, I stepped out. I quickly wrapped myself in a towel and dried my hair before stepping out of the bathroom.

I hung the towel on a peg on the back of the bathroom door before putting on a pair of panties and a bra. Turning, I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror, and nibbled at my bottom lip. My deep brown hair needed a brushing, and my eyes looked tired, and I had deep, dark circles beneath them. Looking over my arms, shoulders, and behind my shoulder blades, I could see finger marks, which was more physical evidence of Ethan’s attack. More appeared on my waist, where he’d grabbed me to restrain me, and there were a few dotting my legs…as well as one or two on my breasts, as well as a bite mark on my neck and breast. Shivering, I recalled his teeth sinking into me, almost as if he would mark me as his own. I felt a sudden tear slipping down my face as I considered that, knowing that I’d never be his.

“Ana!” called Theodore, and he barged into my room without knocking, just like he’d done when we were growing up.

“Theo!” I cried, making a grab for an afghan to cover me, but not before he got a good look at me.

“I’ll kill him,” he growled, before shouting for our mother, and turning to walk off, his fist in his mouth.

I think I heard him slamming his fist into the wall, all the way down the hall. I felt tears prick my eyes as soon as our mother walked in, and let the afghan drop. Her eyes widened and filled momentarily with tears. She shut the door behind her, picked up the afghan, wrapped me in it, and proceeded to rock me as I sobbed.

. . .

I decided on deep gray suit pants and a navy blazer with a pale yellow camisole beneath to meet Elena Lincoln that afternoon. Mom loaned me a necklace that made the outfit—pearls. With my business-casual black heels, we all went to the car at exactly one-thirty. We drove Downtown and managed to find the office building without incident, parking in their garage and heading up to the seventh floor.

I gripped Theodore’s hand in the elevator for a brief moment before the ping sound was made and we all stepped out. We walked to the left, where a sign announced that Elena’s office would be there, and we greeted by her receptionist, Bethany. She showed us where the waiting room was, and we prepared to sit for another ten minutes or so.

A young woman with long blonde hair and large, deep blue eyes appeared in the doorway leading to the back around ten minutes later, and smiled at us all. “Are you Anastasia Steele?” she asked, addressing me.

“Yes,” I reply, getting to my feet. “These are my parents—Ray and Carla—and this is my twin brother, Theodore.”

The woman smiles, and I can tell she is no-nonsense, yet friendly. “Elena Lincoln,” she says, putting out her hand and shaking mine. “Very nice to meet all of you. It’s always good when a client has a support network consisting of their family built up around them. Won’t you come back?” She beckons and peeks over her shoulder to make sure that we are following before proceeding ahead of us.

I really must ask her where she shops. Elena wears a plum colored blouse and a knee-length burgundy skirt, along with perfect black heels, much nicer than mine. She leads us to a circular office with a great view of the city, and points to the four chairs, circling her desk. I sit down first, and Theodore sits to my left, my mother to my right.

“I’ve reviewed your paperwork as forwarded to me by your doctor, as well as your statements to Christian Grey,” Elena begins.

“And?” I ask, already fretting.

She smiles. “Well, since my husband is a police officer, I’ve been able to get some of his team to get in touch with the company who is in charge of the security cameras and security camera footage at The Electric Violin. The good news is that it’s an independent company, so they’re more than likely going to jump at what we’re offering to get the access to the footage. The bad news is, once Ethan gets word of us doing this, he could potentially arrange to buy the company off, unless members of the company are subpoenaed in court to show the footage of Ethan assaulting you.”

I shake my head. “Why would someone do that?”

“Simple. They don’t want to risk getting caught and sent to jail,” Elena says, spreading her hands. “It’s a harsh reality out there. What many people don’t understand is that, at times, members of society are upset about a completely separate matter, and they choose to act out fantasies, despite being told ‘no’, and to ‘stop’. Certain people of the world relish being in control, and, unfortunately, it gets so bad that many women don’t only get raped, but they’ll get murdered as well.”

I shiver at that. “So, you’re saying I should be thankful that Ethan didn’t kill me?” I demand.

“I’m saying that anything is a possibility,” Elena replies. “I’m saying that, with me on your side, I can take this case anywhere. I’m saying that, with this case, we can get Ethan life in prison without parole, and a big fat check for you. We can do anything.”

I shake my head. “I want him to atone,” I reply.

“That’s it?” Elena asks.

“For now,” I reply.

. . .

I soon manage to excuse myself to the water pump out in the hallway; I just had to get out of there for a moment or two. The floor rugs are disgustingly modern and cheap-looking, and the patterns on them do seriously lack emotion. However, the water is icy cold down my throat which momentarily distracts me from legal fees, co-council decisions, and other things I have to make up my mind about.

“Meeting going well?”

I look up at the sound of Christian’s voice, and force myself not to smile. “You know that stalking is a felony in this state, Mr. Grey.”

“Actually, it can also be considered what is known as a gross misdemeanor, Anastasia,” he replies, taking his own cone-shaped, paper water cup and getting himself some. “It’s a very complicated business.”

“I see,” I say, getting myself more water.

“Kate here with you?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, she’s not.”

His brows knit together at that. “How are things with Theodore?”

“Over, it seems,” I say softly. “She didn’t take it too well after my doctor confirmed that an assault had taken place. She actually wanted me to lie about being drunk to the defense or whoever to get Ethan off. Although I think that was achieved before the swift kick to his boys,” I say darkly, shaking my head at my imprudence.

“Are you still living with her?”

“Not at the moment, no. My mother and father opened their home to me and, for the moment, I’m staying with them and my brother.”

“And how is that?”

“Fine…before Theodore walked into my bedroom unannounced and saw the roadmap of treachery that Ethan left on my body,” I reply, shaking my head, barely noticing the water cup trembling along with my hand.

Christian gripped his cup so tightly that water spilled from his fist and dripped down onto the carpet. “I’m not surprised that Theodore reacted the way he did,” Christian replies as I hear footsteps behind us.

Turning, I see Theodore coming to join us. He puts an arm protectively around my shoulders and sizes up Christian.

“Theodore Steele, older twin of this one here, also a medical resident,” my brother says, putting out a hand with that lopsided smile of his.

“Christian Grey, attorney at law,” he replies, taking his offered hand. “We neither of us had much of an opportunity to chat the other night. I’m sorry about that. Anastasia speaks so highly of you.”

“Does she now?” Theodore asks, giving me a rueful smile. “That makes two of us. I just hope I’m as worthy of her praise as you are.”

“Really?” Christian asks, showing a faint glimmer of excitement at that as he turns to look at me. “Anastasia praises me?”

I immediately feel my cheeks heat, and know that this is a side of Theodore that I definitely did not miss. “Well, I simply said that you had certain connections that could be of use to all of us,” I said, thinking quickly.

“She’s also attracted to you,” Theodore stage whispered.

“Theo!” I cried, wanting desperately to take a swipe at his shoulder or to take my heel and jab it into his foot.

“Really, she said that?” Christian wanted to know.

“Oh, yeah. Not outright, of course, but I’m her twin—the _elder _twin, as I mentioned earlier. I know these things,” Theodore went on.

“You also have a big mouth!” I say disdainfully. “This is just like high school all over again. I say half of something, and you come up with the answer to the problem!”

“Hey, Ana, calm—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down here!” I cry out angrily. “Christian doesn’t do girlfriends, Theo. And even if he did, it wouldn’t matter because I’m not good enough for him—physically or financially or any other way—and I’d need to get to know him better if _he and I _decided to take that personal step.” I manage to wriggle out of his protective arm. “Now, if you would excuse me, I’ve got a meeting to get back to.” I stomp in the opposite direction, and force myself not to look back.

. . .

Elena agreed to represent me, thank goodness, though the rest of the meeting proved uneventful, due to the fact that every third word seemed to be “strategy”. I didn’t even want to think about it! I just wanted to go back to my childhood bedroom and grade papers, just like the good teacher I was. I wanted to tune out the rest of the world, get back to work for a few hours, eat the chicken stir fry Mom was making that night, and then go to bed early in preparation for school the next day.

When we returned home—a journey where I sat, ignoring Theodore, and listening to 1980’s rock music on my phone—I headed straight upstairs. Dad had to do some work in the home office while Mom went to the enclosed porch to read a book. Theodore, at last giving up in his pursuit of apologies, left the house after getting a call from his old friend, Sam Davies, who was in town for the weekend on some business.

I answered a few emails from some parents, and was surprised to see one from my boss, Dean Channing. Dean Michael Channing was a kind man, and an old friend of Dad’s. Getting up the nerve, I told him what was going on, and felt so inferior when I requested a week off. Within a half hour, Michael had gotten back to me, informing me that this would be a perfect opportunity to see how Annette did without me in the classroom. Normally, I’m sure any teacher would be threatened by this, but not me. I’d seen Annette in her true form, and it was not selfish or vindictive in any way. She wanted her own classroom, and had given me her word that she’d never attempt to usurp my position. I thanked Michael before collapsing under my blankets for a nap.

. . .

I awoke just after six and just in time for dinner. Theodore was out with Sam for dinner, so it was just me, Mom, and Dad for dinner. I told them about asking Michael for a week off, and the pair of them supported me completely. I fully intended to work from home, but I hadn’t been off since the summer—nearly two months before—and I needed a small breather. With Halloween fast approaching, I knew that I had to be back at Ivy Door sooner rather than later to properly decorate the classroom with skulls and witches and pumpkins and other things the children liked.

I went downstairs and saw my mother standing in the kitchen, at the stove, the mighty wok placed center stage, simmering and cooking with deliciousness. I smiled, my stomach growling in exultation at the thought of the stir fry, inhaling the scent of onions cooking and simmering and browning appropriately. Turning, she saw me and kissed my forehead before asking me to set the table. I got on my toes and went towards the cupboard where all the plates and glasses were kept before setting up the small table in the kitchen.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” she tells me as I place the rose-patterned placemats down under the plates. “Why don’t you go tell your dad?” she asks as I put the rose coasters down under the glasses.

“All right,” I reply, waving for a moment before going down the hall and into his office. “Hey, Dad,” I say, grinning at him just as he hangs up the phone. “Client calling?” I ask, nodding at the phone.

He smiles and nods. “Ever since I moved the practice here, business has been going exceptionally well. So many people appreciate the smaller atmosphere, I guess.” He shuffles some papers on his desk before putting them into a file folder and into his file cabinet. “Do you remember Mrs. Baker, kitten?”

I nod, sitting on the window seat behind his desk. “Of course I remember her. She’s the one who lived one block over, right? The one who always baked the incredible chocolate chip cookies for Halloween?”

“That’s right, that’s Fiona.”

“How is she?” I ask, tucking my legs underneath my chin.

“She’s all right. She’s using a walker now; her back is bothering her every few months or so now. She was calling about Pete, her husband.”

“Oh, I remember him! He was the haunted house guy and she was the cookie lady,” I say, smiling at the memory.

My father chuckles. “That’s right. Pete’s not doing very well these days. He’s bound to a wheelchair. He’s got some pretty bad cancer in his liver, and gout in both legs.”

“Oh, gawd, that’s awful!” I say, shaking my head. “It’s such an archaic thing, you never really consider that it’s really still out there... Is there anything I can do to help either of them, while I’m here?” I ask.

He smiles at me. “Well, Mrs. Baker just opened their home to Tabitha, their daughter, for the next few weeks. Tabitha’s husband, Jason, got that oil fortune, so Tabby never really had to work. Tabby’s got three children now—Jeremiah, Henrietta, and Gavin. Jason has moved the family out here before he intends to join them; he’s still in Sacramento.”

“What can I do?”

Dad mulls it over for a moment. “Well, Tabitha always wants the best school possible in the area for the kids. Jeremiah is eleven now, Henrietta is nine, and Gavin is five. Perhaps if you spoke to Michael, he could let them take the placement exam to see if the three of them could fit in to the school environment.”

“That’s brilliant, Dad! I just hope that me asking for a week off and then asking for another favor won’t seem too needy,” I say.

Dad smiles. “It’s okay, kitten. I’m sure that Michael won’t mind. We were in school together, you know that. I can’t tell you how many favors I did for that guy growing up…”

“All right. I’ll email him tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good girl. So, when’s dinner?”

“Soon,” I reply. “Mom told me to come in and fetch you.”

“Sounds good,” he says, getting to his feet and helping me up from my own seat. “Mrs. Baker knows you’re staying here for the time being and she asked you to stop by around seven-thirty. Tabby hasn’t seen you since high school graduation and she really could use a friend right now.”

I smile at that. “You know, so could I. I’ll go.”

I put on a pair of jeans, a basic t-shirt, and a sweater after dinner. I slip my feet inside my sneakers and attach one of the spare house keys to my ring, which I place into my pocket. I tell my parents I won’t be back late and leave the house, walking all the way down the sidewalk. I make a left at the end of the block and keep going, before making another left at the corner. I keep going for another block and a half before stopping at the fifth house on the block and go up to the door. Ringing the bell, I wait as I hear some momentary shuffling about from inside.

“Mrs. Baker,” I say, grinning at my former neighbor.

“Anastasia Steele!” she cries, embracing me before taking my hand. “Do come in, my dear. Gavin’s just getting his bath done but Henrietta and Jeremiah are having their PBS time. Come on through to the dining room, my dear,” she says, taking my hand and leading me past the living room and down the hall. “Tabby! Look who I found wandering around on the front porch!”

“Ana!” cries Tabby, setting down a pitcher of lemonade, which she was pouring for her father, and comes up to me. We hesitate briefly before hugging, and she pulls back to stare at me. “Me, you, and Kate were the best of friends, and then you went to college and I got married. The time has truly flown by!”

“It’s so great to see you,” I reply, peeking around her, to where her father is sitting quietly in his wheelchair. “Mr. Baker, hope you’re doing well.”

“If I remember correctly, Anastasia, your father tells you everything,” he said with a light chuckle my way. “I would think that he told you of my condition.”

“He did, and I’m very sorry for it.”

Tabby pulls slightly at my arm in an impatient manner, almost as if she didn’t want me speaking to her father. Tabby was always the one growing up who wanted everything to happen exactly when she wanted it, which was not such an uncommon thing. “Come on, let’s catch up. You don’t mind, do you, Mom?”

“Of course not, sweetie,” Mrs. Baker replies, pouring the lemonade for her husband. “You two head out to the guesthouse. There’s nobody in their now, and I’ll see to it that the kids get washed up and put to bed.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Tabby says, shooting her mother a grateful look before pulling me outside behind her. We go down the stairs into the back garden, walk along the cobblestones, and Tabby turns the lock of the guesthouse, where she, Kate, and I used to play dress up and have tea parties. We slip inside, and I shut the door behind us.

“Wow. Smaller than I remembered,” I say, chuckling to myself. “I remember you always getting on me and Kate because you were four years older. You had your period first, you got boobs first, got the boyfriend first, got married first, had kids first… You were always first,” I say, shaking my head.

She smiles, sitting across from me and hesitating for a moment. “My parents just didn’t want me to get knocked up at seventeen,” she says a little bitterly. “Can you keep a secret, Ana?” she asks softly.

I nod. “To the grave,” I reply, giving it our childhood oath.

“Okay. Only you and Jason will know this after tonight.” She sighs, biting her lip. “Jeremiah isn’t Jason’s biological son,” she whispers.

I raise my eyebrows. “Not…?”

She shakes her head at me, slightly reluctant. “Not. I got pregnant as the result of a rape. I never told anyone, never reported it. After about four or five weeks of being pregnant—and believe me, I checked—I met Jason. He was sweet and intelligent and kind and considerate and within days we were inseparable. I told him on our third date and I was quick to tell him the circumstances but also gave the reason why I wouldn’t tell anyone—I’m pretty sure you remember how Christian my mom and dad really are.”

I nod. “Of course I do.”

“So that’s why I couldn’t get an abortion,” she says, whispering now. “I’m pro-choice, but I was so afraid that they’d somehow find out, because I was seventeen. However, when I told them how in love I was with Jason, they pushed us into getting married. Because I was so young, I was able to conceal the pregnancy for months, and when we announced it, it was all okay, because I was married. And even after he was born—four weeks premature, at least that’s what the world believes—it wasn’t considered faulty or anything like that, because I was so young.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask her. “I mean, I don’t mind, of course, but there must be some sort of correlation here...”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tabby asks.

I shake my head at that, wondering what she could be getting at. Tabby had always been quite the drama queen in high school, and I wondered if she was now the star of some unknown reality soap opera she wanted me to be a part of now that we were older... “No, it’s not really... Please, Tabby, I’ve had enough games recently, I… Just tell me why you’re telling me this.”

“Because,” she says, “Jeremiah’s biological father is Ethan.”

I felt myself beginning to shiver. “How do you know?”

“Because, I know Ethan,” she says quietly. “We all grew up together, you know that. He was that kid that developed early and—despite being almost two years younger than me at the time of Jeremiah’s conception—he was ready for it, but not the consequences that came along with it. That’s why I didn’t say anything. Despite his size versus my size, no jury would ever convict him. All they would see is a seventeen-year-old girl pointing the finger at a fifteen-year-old boy, with no record, no nothing, and despite the fact that I didn’t have a record either, it wouldn’t have mattered to anyone.”

I blink, shocked. “So what you’re saying is, it would have been a case of he said/she said, and that all the jury would see is an older woman blaming a younger man, and therefore never take you seriously?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask.

She leans forward and takes my hands. “I’m telling you this because I know what happened to you,” she replies. “Your dad gave me a call.”

“Wait a minute, Tabby... I thought the reason why you wanted me to come over here was to catch up because you’re moving back to the area. Is that not true?”

Tabby nods. “Yes, we are moving back to the area, but once I heard what happened, I changed my plans completely.”

I stammer for a moment, trying to root myself back into the conversation somehow. It took a moment, but it finally worked. “Wait. You changed your plans?”

“Yeah, totally changed them. I pulled the kids out of school and moved up here weeks ahead of schedule,” she replies. “The original plan was to move up sometime after Thanksgiving, or maybe Christmas, but I couldn’t stand by and wait and see what was going to happen. I had to get back here.”

“Get back here?” I ask, still not fully comprehending what was really going on here. “Why would you have to—”

“Your dad told me how Kate reacted, and I just couldn’t believe it. I pretty much packed the kids in the car with a few suitcases and left everything behind. Well, thankfully Jason is following in a couple of weeks to help me look for a decent house, but that’s beside the point here, Ana.”

“But why would you—”

“Because you need all the support you can get right now,” she replies, her voice patient as she smiles at me. “What we need to do is to help Kate remember something—she’s your best friend. I know that she feels loyalty to Ethan, and I’ll never dispute that—despite what he did to you and to me. It’s unfair is what it is. We will go places with this information, Ana. Your dad mentioned that you got a lawyer?”

“Yes, Elena Lincoln,” I reply.

She nods. “Jason’s sister, Larissa, knew her. Elena’s originally from Sacramento, too, which is where Larissa met her. They’re old friends, and that’s the girl we need to take this case to the top.”

“We?” I ask.

Tabby smiles. “Don’t think I’m letting you do this alone. I’ll speak for you, Ana. I’ll speak to you until the end.”

I throw my arms around her. “You’re wonderful, you know that? Now, how do you propose we handle getting Kate involved?”

Tabby smiles at that, giggling a little.

“What?” I ask. “You’ve got an idea?”

She nods. “I think I know just the thing…”

. . .

The following night, the plan was set. Tabby had made a call to Kate, telling her that she was in town and wanted to meet for dinner. We headed to a popular place called Chinook’s, right on the water, which was known for its catch of the day. With Mr. and Mrs. Baker looking after Tabby’s children, we were all set for a night out.

We managed to get a table in the back, where older couples usually dined, and waited for Kate, who would more than likely be caught in traffic. We ordered drinks and watched people ambling around on the docks or tinkering with their boats outside before we saw Kate making her way over. She looked more than a little shocked and angered at seeing me, but happily embraced Tabby nonetheless, probably believing that this whole get together was my idea entirely.

“What’s new?” she asked Tabby, ignoring me.

“What’s new? Well, other than the fact that you haven’t been supportive of Ana these last couple of days, nothing,” Tabby replied.

Kate raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Why are you doing this, Kate? After what happened to me, you were so supportive! I’m not even your best friend. I know we’ve always been close, but I know that you and Ana are the ones that are best friends here. Please, tell me why you’re not being receptive.”

“Because she’s accusing my brother, my _brother_, Tabby! I don’t believe that she’s not in it for the money—teachers don’t make a good salary.”

“Kate, this is me,” I say quietly.

“Yes,” she says, taking a sip of the red wine we ordered for her. “I know. And I don’t know why you would accuse Ethan of this.”

“Because he’s the guilty one here, Kate, not Ana,” Tabby says softly. She sighs. “I lied to you and to everyone out there, Kate, except Jason, and, as of yesterday, to Ana. The identity of Jeremiah’s father…isn’t Jason.”

“What?” Kate asks, leaning forward. “Tab…”

“Yes, I know. I thought by lying and making up that story that it was at some party and that I was drunk and didn’t remember everything would suffice, but I can’t do that anymore. Truth is, I wasn’t drunk. I’m a social drinker—polygraph me to the grave, I’ve never been drunk in my life. It _was_ at a party, but the guy wasn’t a complete stranger; it was Ethan.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Kate said, shaking her head. “Tabby, I know you’re on Ana’s side here, but…”

“She’s not kidding,” I said softly. “I saw Jeremiah last night and this afternoon and I was shocked at what I saw. He’s grown into a miniature Ethan. He looks just like Ethan did in the sixth grade, Kate. It can’t be just a coincidence; it looks too real.”

“Two of us have come forward, Kate,” Tabby says softly. “How many women or girls will it take to prove to you that Ethan is a predator?”

“I don’t know,” Kate whispers. “I mean…did you…?”

“Yes, I have the DNA test,” she replies. “I don’t ever see Ethan, but any living relative will do. When I was sleeping over at your place one night, I took one of your hairs while you were sleeping.”

“_My_ hairs?!” Kate squawked.

“Yes, I should have asked your permission, but I was afraid of the truth coming out; I wasn’t ready for it to come out.” She reaches into her bag, and takes out a piece of paper; I see a legal document seal on it, so I know that Tabby isn’t playing around. “In the findings of Washington State Superior Court, we find that the DNA with minor child Jeremiah Baxter Davidson, matches that of Kate Jane Harper. This means that Kate Harper is the paternal aunt of the aforementioned minor child, as her DNA does not match that of the minor child’s mother, Tabitha Anne Baker-Davidson.”

“Let me see,” Kate says, taking it from Tabitha. Tears prick her eyes then, and she shakes her head. “Well,” she says, handing it back to Tabitha, “I see that Ethan did wrong by you. But you,” she says, turning to me, “I need some sort of evidence.”

“Dr. Greene provided DNA evidence for me, too,” I remind her.

She nods. “Yes, I know. But maybe should take it one step further.”

“How?” I ask.

She smiles, taking out her phone. “I have a guy on the inside of the place for the security cameras for The Electric Violin.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”

Kate grins. “Not in the slightest. Ethan made the place collateral when he was afraid that the business wouldn’t take off. So, I contacted the security camera company for him to make sure that they would actually take his deposit when he was afraid the business would go under.”

“You’re very sneaky, you know that, don’t you?” Tabby asked.

She grinned. “Always,” she replied, keying in a number and waiting a moment. “Hello, this is Kate Harper, younger sister of Ethan Harper, one of your preferred clients. Yes, could you please connect me to Edmund Matthews? He’s an old, close, personal friend. Thank you.” She smiles at the pair of us and waits another moment. “Edmund, hi, it’s Kate! I’m well, thank you, how are you? That’s great; Natalie and the baby well? Wonderful. Yes, I am calling about some footage, actually. Could you please send all the footage from around nine-thirty until midnight from last Friday night? No, it’s not for me; it’s for Elena Lincoln, a lawyer. Thank you very much, Edmund; I owe you. All right, I’ll make a piece about family life and professional life about you. Okay, take care. Goodbye.” She hangs up. “In any case, I owe you an apology, Ana; I was way out of line.”

I smile at her and take her hand. “You just did a good thing for me, Kate. I think you should do a piece on how friendships come back around…and maybe one that ensures that private school teachers make a better salary…”

Kate grins. “I’ll see what I can do.”


	6. Mixed Signals

I get a call from Elena the following afternoon regarding the footage that Independent Footage Company sent to her. She calls me in to her office, and Theodore takes me, and is surprised to see Kate in the office waiting for the two of us. Christian is there, too, giving me a smile from behind the desk, where he stands next to Elena. I sit on the end, allowing Theodore to sit by Kate, and Elena gets to her feet.

“I decided against reviewing the footage without you present, for formality reasons, although Miss Harper here has informed me that she and your brother left the scene of the crime, formally known as The Electric Violin, sometime after ten o’clock. This leads me to believe that this attack didn’t take place until after that point.” She reaches forward, taking ahold of the knob that will manipulate the time we see on the screen. “There’s you talking to what looks to be a couple…”

I nodded. “That’s Elliot and Leila Grey, Christian’s brother and sister-in-law,” I reply lightly, and Christian smooths his hair back slightly.

“Good, good. You’ll forgive me, it’s pretty dark in there,” she tells me. “I do remember you saying that Elliot wasn’t really talking to you that night? I know Elliot and he don’t normally speak much outside work.”

I shake my head. “No, you’re right about that, Elena. He’s a perfect gentleman, but most of my conversations are with Leila. We talked mostly of their son, Ava, a student in my class.”

“Ah, Ava, sweet boy,” she replies, analyzing the screen again as the events of that night unfold. “And there’s Ethan approaching you,” Elena says, business-like. “What did he say to the two of you?”

“He asked Leila how she was,” I replied. “They briefly discussed her love of Pinot Noir and she asked him where it had shipped from.”

“Did he give her an answer?” she wants to know.

“Melbourne,” I reply.

“And what happened then?” Elena asks.

“Then he asked if he could steal me for a dance.”

“Seems like a harmless enough discussion, I suppose,” Elena says, reworking the system to show the camera above the dance floor. “And there you two are, dancing. Were you talking during this point?”

“Yes, we were,” I reply. “He was remarking how seemingly displeased he was about Theodore and Kate’s relationship. He made the comment about how since we were all essentially raised together, that he thought it was more than a little inappropriate. He asked my opinion on it.”

“What did you tell him?” Elena asks.

“I told him that it didn’t matter really to me. I said that I thought it was great, because Theodore and Kate had genuine feelings for each other, for years, in fact. I said that since we weren’t technically related, that it shouldn’t matter one way or another.”

“And that’s how you honestly felt about it?” she asks.

I nod. “Yes, honestly…” Turning to the screen, I feel sick as suddenly Ethan grabs me, doesn’t let go, and kisses me. “And then…that happened,” I say softly, so that Elena and everyone else has to struggle to hear me and watch the footage all at once. “Then, as you can see, I pushed him away,” I say, turning away from the screen in disgust. “I told him that I didn’t mean that, simply because I was okay with Theodore and Kate, didn’t mean that I meant that he and I should begin a relationship. I thought he understood that, and I left the dance floor then, as you can clearly see me doing…”

Elena switches to the camera of the dining area, where you could clearly see me walking through. She then changed to the bar camera, where my head, neck, and torso were seen walking towards the back hallway. The first hallway camera saw me walking down and turning the corner, and then me standing at the back drinking water from the drinking fountain. Elena then rewound the footage, to each and every place, this time focusing on Ethan. Ethan shook a hand or two before following my steps exactly, and putting a sign on the hallway that stated, “Bathrooms out of order”.

“Criminal intent…premeditation,” Elena says bitterly, and from the corner of my eye, I see Christian gripping her desk, while Kate raises a shocked hand to her mouth.

Elena then turns the camera back to me drinking from the drinking fountain, and I feel myself stiffen as Ethan comes up behind me. I turn to look at him, and the camera picks up on my hand gestures. Elena presses a button that divides the screen into two parts, where we can watch from my point of view and Ethan’s point of view.

From my side of things, we see me, gesturing as I normally do, in an attempt to get Ethan to understand that I just wanted to be friends. On Ethan’s side, he looks determined, whereupon he kisses me again. He grabs ahold of my shoulders, slamming me up against the wall by the drinking fountain, his fingers digging into my skin. My hands fly up in that next moment, attempting to push him off of me and my feet attempt to run. I watch, horrified, as Ethan lowers one of his hands and pushes it up underneath my skirt. With his other hand, he clamps it down, hard, on my mouth so that I don’t scream. He then inches his right hand up my thigh and inside me, and immediately my face registers the pain that I must have felt.

Thinking fast, the camera me promptly knees him in the groin. Ethan doubles over in pain, just as Christian comes on the scene. The camera records our conversation, while Ethan, whose head hit the drinking fountain, lies, unconscious, in front of me. Elena, knowing the rest, stops the camera, but turns immediately to Christian.

“Why would you go back there, after you saw the sign that Ethan put up before he himself went back there?” she asks.

“I was at the bar when I saw what he did on the dance floor. Kate, Theodore, and Ana know the layout of The Electric Violin to know that, from the bar, you can see everything, with the exception of the back.”

“That’s right,” Kate replied. “I told Ethan to put the bar there. There are three steps to get up to the bar, so that, if you have a drink before sitting down, you’ll be able to find the party you’re supposed to meet there. In my first article for _The Seattle Sazerac_, entitled _New Hot Spots_, I wrote about how Ethan took my advice on that.”

“And Ana’s been there plenty of times to know that information,” Theodore said. “Although that sounded wrong.”

“What my brother means to say is, I seldom drink, but I’m there pretty much every weekend—the restaurant,” I continue. “Kate and I helped with the interior design aspect—she did the bar and I suggested the dance floor,” I go on quietly.

“And Elena, I followed Ana because I was concerned,” Christian says in a persuasive manner to her. “You and I have both prosecuted multiple cases with similar aspects to this one, so I know as well as you do when a situation has the potential to turn ugly. Bottom line, I was worried for Ana.”

“Well,” Elena says, looking from him to me, “I see now. All right. I’ll go over this with the co-council sometime this week. That’s all we need to go over for today.”

I suggested to Kate that she and Theodore went somewhere to talk, and I would catch a cab back to my parent’s house. Christian wouldn’t hear of it and followed me out of the place, just as I said goodbye to my brother and my best friend. Just as I took out my phone to call I cab, I heard a familiar step behind me, and Christian presented himself.

“Can I buy you lunch?” he asked.

I raised my eyebrows. “Lunch?”

He nods and takes my hand. “If you like.”

I give him a smile. “All right, then. Lunch.”

We walk for a few blocks before arriving just outside The Seattle Center, where The Fun Forest used to be. The Fun Forest was Seattle’s only form of an amusement park, and I remembered being absolutely heartbroken and devastated when they closed it down when I was around thirteen or fourteen years old. Right beside the now-defunct amusement park was a small train-looking station known as The Seattle Monorail.

The Monorail was a train that took you to the very heart of Downtown, to a place that I used to consider magical around Christmastime which was called Westlake Center. I found myself remembering, as a little girl, that our father would bundle me and Theodore up in our warmest clothes and take us down there, where our first stop was the carousel, which had been moved from The Fun Forest. From there, we would get a medium-sized hot chocolate from Starbucks, and then head into the mall proper. We would always stop in Bed, Bath, and Beyond while in there, and Theodore and I would pick a new pillow for our bedrooms while Dad would pick something special for our mother. We would then do some miscellaneous holiday shopping, and Dad would always have a little notepad handy to be sure that he got us everything we wanted. Of course, being so young, Dad would always say that he was writing down the information for Santa, because he and Santa were old friends and he’d listen to Dad.

We got tickets for the train and went in. Taking seats just by the window, we watched, as gleeful as children, as the buildings gradually got larger and larger until finally we’d passed the smaller buildings entirely. The whole ride was only about two minutes, and when we stepped off, I was excited to see exactly where Christian was going to take me. We walked off the platform and took a left on Fourth Avenue, continuing up past Olive Way. We didn’t come to a stop until we reached an address, 2010 Fourth Avenue.

The place was the home of Assaggio Ristorante, a refined and slightly upscale place that Kate and I had fantasized about but hadn’t dared to try. The pair of us walked in, and Christian, who was apparently a regular, was given his customary snug table at the front left corner of the cozy establishment. He smiled, handing me a menu and informing me to get whatever I wanted.

“Show off,” I muttered, looking over my menu.

“What?” he asked, confused.

I smiled at him, trying not to laugh in the next moment. “Well, it’s not even a date, and you’re trying to impress me,” I say, shrugging.

“What do you mean?” he asks, not understanding.

I give him a grin. “It’s all right, really.”

“Ana?” he asks.

I shake my head at him. “I know you wouldn’t date me even if I was the last woman on earth, if I’m being completely honest with you. I couldn’t possibly be your type, even if you were drunk. I mean, look at me,” I say, lowering my eyes and shaking my head. “But I am officially impressed,” I add quietly.

Christian sighs. “Anastasia, this _is_ a date.”

I choke on my water, a stray ice cube making its way unceremoniously down my throat as I attempt to process his words. What can he mean? It was impossible, wasn’t it? By all the saints, I couldn’t _really _be his type, could I? This was _the _Christian Grey, attorney at law, and I was just...well, me.

“Excuse me?” I demand.

He smiles. “I’ve been impressed with you ever since you told me off on Friday. I don’t know what is it about you—your intelligence, your passion, your wisdom—but I am committed to getting to know you,” he says, and I don’t miss the fact that he doesn’t say anything about my looks, for there isn’t much to discuss there. “I got the sense that you were old fashioned, and that’s fine with me. I’m fully prepared to court you.”

I smile, touched. “Christian… You could have just asked me out you know.”

He smiles broader. “Well, I would have, but I wasn’t sure about your interest in me. I wanted to ask you out on Friday night, but I honestly thought that you were with Ethan. Then after what he did to you, I thought that you’d broken it off with him…”

“Ethan and I were never in a relationship.”

It is his turn to choke on his water. “Run that by me one more time.”

“We’re _friends_; I thought you would have gotten that from what I told Elena. I mean, on the dance floor, when he kissed me, I said that to him... I even said it in the meeting…” I shake my head at that, a smile twitching at my lips. “I guess you were so incensed in those meetings and those situations where I reiterated everything to you, that you never…”

“I was incensed,” he replies, bemused.

“But you told me that girlfriends… You said that you didn’t date…” I shake my head at him, at the confusion, spreading my hands in utter misperception.

Christian smiles easily, and wraps his hand almost protectively around mine. “I’ll make an exception for you,” he replies. “I must be able to talk to the woman I’m involved with. I can talk with you. I like you.”

I smiled at him, feeling as if suddenly everything had come into focus. This handsome, eligible bachelor _liked_ me. He _liked_ me. I couldn’t believe it, but I found myself saying the four words that any man—who seemed to appreciate old-fashioned girls—wanted to hear. “I like you, too.”

A waitress came over then and took our drink order, and then asked if we were ready to order our lunch. Christian shot me a smile and ordered the ravioli with boar for himself, and the chicken parmesan for me. The waitress looked slightly taken aback before informing Christian that the chicken parmesan was on the dinner menu only.

Christian raised his eyebrows and looked around the place; the restaurant only had about five or six more couples seated around us—it wasn’t even halfway full. Office people probably bought grab and go salads from some organic corner market instead of choosing to having proper, sit-down lunches these days...

He insisted to see the head manager, and she scuttled away, her little white apron nearly falling off of her as she sped off.

“Christian, it’s really okay,” I whispered, before a middle-aged man stepped forward after a brief word to the waitress.

“Christian!” cried the man, and Christian got to his feet to shake his hand. “Who is your lovely friend? Is she Elena’s new assistant?”

Christian laughed. “No. This is Anastasia Steele, the new woman in my life, Mauro. She’s Ava’s teacher at the Ivy Door Academy.”

The man called Mauro smiled. He stuck out his hand without hesitation and took mine in his. “Miss Steele, it is an honor to meet you.”

I smiled at him, quite taken by his elusive yet delightful charm, although a bit alarmed that Christian would just assume that I would consent to be the new woman in his life without so much as asking me. “Well, Mauro, the honor is mine. I’ve been wanting to come in for a very long time.”

“Well, thank you for coming,” he said, releasing my hand and turning back to Christian. “Our waitress, Violet, is new. Forgive her—she doesn’t know that you are a regular customer. Tell me, what is it you wanted, Miss Steele—the chicken parmesan?”

“Yes, Mauro,” I replied.

He smiled. “Then you shall have it,” he proclaimed. “And the spinach ravioli with the boar for you, Christian?”

About twenty minutes later, our food had arrived. We sat and at the lush colored meal in front of us, and spoke about Elena’s findings. I was touched that Christian was so protective of me, and thanked him for his concern, and came to think that it would not be so bad to be the new woman in his life. Christian paid the bill at the end of the meal, despite my protests that we go Dutch, and we walked out of the place, and back down Fourth Avenue. On Fourth and Pine, right by the platform, I made a move to turn right, to go back to the Monorail, but Christian took my hand and pulled me to the left.

I shot him a questioning look, but he remained silent, a smile on his face. We continued down Pine Street, not speaking, merely content in each other’s company. I looked across the street and saw where the carousel would be at Christmas, and considered going down there myself when it became December once more. We came to a stop in front of a Cupcake Royale, and Christian held the door open for me.

I felt my phone vibrate then and peeked at it. It was Theodore, telling me that he and Kate were taking a walk and would be finished with it in the next ten minutes or so. I relayed the information to Christian, who nodded in approval. We told the charming young woman behind the counter, whose nametag read “Becky”, what we wanted and then I told Christian to let me pay this time. He relented, his eyes boring into my back as I got a ‘Red Velvet’ for Kate and a ‘Classic’ one for Theodore. I got one called ‘Dance Party’ and Christian got one called a ‘Plain Jane’.

We took the decorative pink box with us with the massive sticker on its top and made our way back down Pine Street, getting on the Monorail at the Westlake Center. The ride was two minutes all over again, and dropped us back off at the Seattle Center, just as Theodore and Kate walked by. Kate’s eyebrows immediately shot up, and I smiled inwardly at the fact that they were holding hands. Theodore immediately took the box from me, and popped it open.

My twin grinned at me, taking out his cupcake. “I can’t believe you remembered my favorite flavor,” he said, handing over the box to Kate and picking me up in his arms and into a massive and brotherly bear hug. “Thank you! It’s unjust that we don’t get one of these in New York.”

I roll my eyes at him and kiss his cheek before he puts me down. “I remember everything, Theo, you know that.”

“Thank you so much for my Red Velvet,” Kate says, dipping her finger into her cream cheese frosting.

“You’re welcome,” I reply as we walk towards the Space Needle. We go down some stairs and soon are back on the main drag, and I am filled with surprise when my heart begins to hurt that I will be torn away from Christian so soon. I shake my head, unseen, knowing that I am acting like some teenager with a curfew who desperately needed someone to tell her to curb her enthusiasm.

We get to the parking garage, and I notice for the first time that Kate’s car is parked directly across from Theodore’s. He considerately walks her to her car to say goodbye, leaving me and Christian alone. From the corner of my eye, I see them kiss, and make plans for the following day for a picnic at the arboretum across town.

“I want to see you again.”

I turn back to Christian and smile up at him. A cool breeze comes into the parking garage then, and I find myself shivering in a moment of cold and anticipation. “Well, you are part of my co-council, and I thank you for that,” I reply, wanting desperately to allow my knees to go weak and fall into his arms. “So you_ will_ be seeing me again, Christian Grey, whether you want to or not.”

“I want,” Christian says as he shakes his head, almost as if he is questioning his lifelong morals at how we got from screaming at each other to her. “I want to take you to dinner, Ana, if that isn’t objectionable. Can I take you tomorrow?”

I feel my cheeks heat as I lower my eyes. “Dinner, Mr. Grey?” I ask. “Isn’t that what boyfriends and girlfriends do together?”

“Oh, I hope so,” he nods. “Say, seven tomorrow night?”

I smile at him. “What did you have in mind?”

He steps forward slightly, kissing my cheek, and I feel a sudden sharp feeling of electricity flowing through me as his lips make contact with my skin, sending yet another shiver through me. “You’ll just have to see,” he replies, reaching into the box, now back in my hands, and taking his cupcake, which he bites, giving me a devilish grin.

“Christian,” I scold, dipping my hand into the box and taking a bite of my cupcake and shaking my head.

“What?”

I shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. Your mannerisms, I suppose…”

He reaches out and takes one of my fingers, putting it into the frosting of his cupcake, and gently rubs it around for a moment.

“Christian, what…?”

He then brings my finger to his mouth and gently licks it clean of the frosting before giving me a final smile and slipping out of the parking garage and back to his office.

I immediately tell Kate what transpired between me and Christian, and she immediately springs into action. She formally kidnaps me from Theodore’s care the following afternoon to take me to the mall. We arrive and she pulls me from the car and takes me into the Gene Juarez Salon. Upon entering, she rattles off a whole bunch of things that absolutely need to be—apparently—done to me. I am taken from her comforting presence and whisked away to the back.

I am taken to a back room first, where my underarms, legs, eyebrows, and _way_ upper thighs are waxed. Once various parts of me are justifiably on fire, I am then rubbed with various scented lotions in order to dull all of the pain and inflammation. I am then pulled to the front, where my hair is washed, conditioned, and then submerged in some weird-smelling liquid. When I give a confused look to the woman, she smiles.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’re not changing anything. It’s to highlight and accentuate the natural color of your hair.”

I nod and allow her to do her job. After that treatment is finished, she blow dries my hair and flat-irons it, the curls disappearing out of thin air. My hands and feet are then washed, lotioned, the nails buffed, before an attractive red is chosen for both. Then, makeup is given, and, by the time I’m finished, I’m embarrassed because Kate has paid for everything.

She then pulls me into the mall, and heads straight to my favorite store—and the only store that I know of that catered to young women of my size while still making us look our age—Torrid. Upon entering, Kate announces our purpose, and whispers to them where Christian is taking me, something I don’t hear at all, and I am left to feel annoyed that I don’t know important information. I am then laden down with various dresses, before I’m promptly gently shoved into a dressing room and told to try things on.

I settle on a pale blue one, because it goes well with my skin tone. The ladies tell me that it is popular right now, and that it was inspired by the recent _Cinderella_ film. Once I find some basic black heels, I know that I’m fully prepared for that evening. I gently nudge Kate out of the way at the counter—I wholly intend to pay for myself.

Just as I think we’re about to leave, Kate yanks me into one more store—Alana, an antique jewelry store that my mother loves. I myself love their pieces, but cannot afford them on my measly salary. Nevertheless, my best friend pulls me inside the place, and bids me to choose something. I start to protest at this but then my eyes fall upon a pendant—simple, golden, circular—that the saleslady says was a watch cover, but has been converted into a pendant. Kate mentions her interest, and asks the price. I nearly die on the spot and attempt to leave the store when she names the price—which is nearly six hundred dollars. Kate waves it away, handing over her credit card and her driver’s license. I tell Kate—after the pendant is outfitted with another hundred-dollar chain—that I fully intend to pay her back, in full, possibly with interest. 

“You will not, Anastasia Steele,” she replies, paying for it as we leave the store. “I see something between you and Christian that I’ve never seen with you or any man. You’re falling for each other, I know it.”

My cheeks heat as I look away. “We’ve had one date…”

“And _lots_ of conversation,” she replies as we get into her car.

“He hasn’t even kissed me yet…”

“And you should eat that up,” she tells me as we pull out of the parking lot. “He seems like a rare exception when it comes to guys. He doesn’t seem into it for the sex.”

“Gee, thanks,” I grumble as we leave the Northgate area.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” she replies with a small giggle my way. “I mean, I know you sense that Christian seems a little old- fashioned...”

“Is that a bad thing?” I ask her.

Kate immediately shakes her head. “Not for you, no. I think that he doesn’t want to rush into anything, which is altogether pleasant, given your...inexperience when it comes to the opposite sex. I mean, it’s almost as if he doesn’t want sex right away—or, if he does, he’s really going in for all the wooing you want…”

“Sex is off the table,” I reply as we cross the intersection that acts as a border between the Northgate and the Greenwood areas.

She nods, gripping the steering wheel slightly. “Right,” she replies.

“For now,” I say softly.

. . .

I am back at my house at six-thirty. Christian texts me to tell me he is on his way, and that he will be there in fifteen minutes. I hurry to my bedroom, quickly taking out my new purchases and dressing, and managing to find a decent pair of pantyhose. I buckle my heels and stare at myself in the mirror, pursing my lips slightly. Knees clacking together, I barely hear the doorbell ring and scarcely hear my mother answering it a moment later.

“Oh, and you must be Christian,” she says.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Steele.”

“I’ll let her know you’re here,” my mother says calmly. “Ray, come out of your office to greet Christian, please.”

“Mr. Steele, pleasure to meet you,” Christian says a moment later.

“Christian,” my father says as I walk out of my bedroom and onto the landing. “I hear you may have saved my daughter’s life.”

“Anastasia did all the saving, Mr. Steele. I simply wished to make sure she was all right.”

“Oh Ana,” my mother whispers, slightly gushing as she meets me on the balcony, her eyes twinkling in delight. “He’s adorable!”

I grin at her. “Just hope Dad likes him as much as you seem to,” I reply as she takes my arm and walks with me down the stairs. “Hello, Dad. Christian, are those for me?” I ask, my eyes lighting up at the sight of the red roses, my favorite flower.

Christian smiles at me then, looking me up and down, and gasps slightly. “Well, yes, it appears so.” He seems to separate the flowers, when I notice that the seemingly giant bouquet is simply two dozen bouquets. “One is for your mother, the other is for you. And these, sir,” he says, taking out a decent-sized, smooth, ribboned box, “are for you. Theodore mentioned you loved chocolate.”

“That’s my boy,” Dad says fondly, taking the box as my mother takes the flowers. “I know you’ll take good care of my daughter.”

“I will, sir,” Christian replies, taking my arm and leading me out.

I am relieved when neither of them question where we are headed as we walk down the garden path and towards his car. We get into that car of his again and drive away from Sunset Hill and in the direction of the Ballard Bridge. We drive past Market Street, and soon we are on Fifteenth Avenue, which takes us directly to the Ballard Bridge. We drive across it, passed Chinook’s, and I remember mentally to give Tabby a call to keep her in the loop about the investigation.

We continue on, passed a couple of underpasses, past a street called Dravus and passed the exit for West Seattle. We go under the Magnolia Bridge and soon we are back in Downtown. We get past the semi-seedy area, where it connects to Queen Anne, and soon we are back at the heart of it all. We go passed the street that The Electric Violin is on, and I deliberately don’t look down it, getting a sick feeling in my stomach.

We get into the neighborhood of valet parking and I’m not surprised at this point. We go down Fourth Avenue again, and then we are outside The Cobb Building, and Christian gets out of the car, goes around to let me out, and hands over the keys to the valet, handing over a twenty-dollar bill like its loose change. He then takes my arm and takes me in, smiling in a friendly manner to the maître d.

“My usual table, please, Mr. Cunningham,” he says politely.

“Of course, Mr. Grey,” Mr. Cunningham replies, gathering up two menus and leading us towards the dining room. We continue through that room for some reason, and soon we are standing in a private room entirely. The doors proclaimed it ‘The Board Room’, and I am suddenly aware that I am in a private dining room. Fine carpeting decorates the floor and Christian and I sit at a round table in the center of the room; while the room can hold a rather large circular table, it appears as if it has been removed. Fine wood paneling decorates the walls, with the walls being a striking red color. There is also a sideboard which holds an impressive replica of a white sailboat.

Mr. Cunningham pulls my chair out in a gentleman-like manner for me and hands over a menu, and turns to Christian, familiarity in his body language. “Will you be having a wine this evening, Mr. Grey?” he asks.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest champagne, and sparkling cider for my date,” he says, with a sweet wink at me.

“Your date isn’t…?” he asks, and I assume they are old friends.

Silently, I remove my driver’s license from my wallet, without being asked, and flash a quick smile to Mr. Cunningham. “Oh, I’m of age, Mr. Cunningham,” I reply, my voice as smooth as silk, “I just don’t like alcohol.”

“Very good… Miss Steele,” he says, looking from my license to me. “You’re not Dr. Steele’s daughter, are you?”

I nod. “I am.”

“I’m Theodore, Fiona’s older brother. Fiona Baker. I’m the co-owner,” he says, puffing himself up a little, so as he resembles a burgundy cardinal.

“Very nice to meet you, Theodore,” I reply.

“And you, Miss Steele, simply delighted,” he replies, shooting me a smile before slipping out of the room.

“He’s very charming,” I say.

“Mrs. Baker is one of your father’s patients?”

I nod, pleased and altogether touched that Christian is taking an interest in the various individuals in my life. “Yes. I’ve known her since I was a little girl. I’m friends with her daughter, Tabitha—the one who mentioned what happened between her and Ethan. Our other star witness.”

Christian grips the table’s edge when Ethan is mentioned. He lowers his eyes and I tense a little when I notice his jaw setting in contempt. “I might have to go out and get a lawyer myself…” He mutters, not letting go of the table so that I know its cloth will have creases in it by the end of the night.

“And why is that?” I ask, sipping my water slowly and attempting to remain nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Because, Anastasia, I am not often a reckless man, but, as you said, I’ve become entirely incensed. I cannot stand by and allow Ethan to walk about, a free man. God, I mean part of me wants to go out and clobber him. I mean, what if I just—”

“Christian!” I say, raising up my hand upwards, almost as if to ward off the knight in him. “_No_, absolutely not. I could never be with a man who threatened violence. Yes, I may want to give Ethan a punch or two, but think about what I did last Friday.”

He nods, sure of himself now. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry.” He reaches forward and takes my hand. “You’re right. How I behaved just now was inappropriate and wrong.”

I smile at him. “It is all right. I know you mean well.”

We turn at the sound of the door opening, two ice buckets on a small, silver table, being pushed by Theodore. He smiles at the pair of us, hand clasped, and wheels the table towards the other side of the table. Also on the table is a pair of elegant crystal wine glasses, which Theodore raises momentarily to pour Christian’s champagne and my sparkling cider into. He places the green bottles into the respective ice buckets and then departs, giving us time to mull over our drinks and to consider what to order as he slips from the room.

“What are you thinking of?” Christian asks, nodding to the menu.

“The roast chicken, with the baked potato and a Caesar salad,” I reply, my mouth watering at the very mention of it.

Christian chuckles indulgently. “Are you deliberately choosing the most inexpensive main course?” he asks. “Don’t you want a steak?”

“I like steak, but I love chicken,” I say.

“No lamb?”

“I don’t like lamb.”

“Lobster?”

I shrug. “I don’t eat fish.”

“Wha—? No fish?!” he demands.

I laugh; I’ve had this conversation more than once. I’ve lived in Seattle my whole life and everyone is shocked when I tell them this. My mother and I swore off fish long ago; Theo only occasionally ate it and my dad was in love with the stuff. Kate wasn’t too fond of it either—she absolutely despised salmon, which certainly made grocery shopping easier. For most people, if they liked it, it was an act of treason or something pertaining to that because I didn’t like it; this mainly had to do with its rancid smell, plus the way it looked. I mean, really, how could I, a Seattleite, born and raised, not like fish, when so many of the premiere restaurants in the area served it?

“I hate it,” I reply. “The smell, the taste… Even the way it looks. It just makes me ill when it’s served with its eyeball still in its head like that. It’s unnatural, that’s what it is. But I _do_ like calamari…”

Christian laughs at that. “All right, all right. I’ll get a steak then, so as not to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Theodore returns a few moments later and asks us in that cordial manner of his what we’d like to begin our meal with. Christian throws me a smile and orders the calamari, along with the French onion soup for himself, and the Caesar for me. We then decide to order our main courses, which we do. Theodore recommends that, if we do decide on dessert—he slides a miniature menu onto our ice bucket table—that we should order it when we are halfway done with our main course.

“What made you decide to go into teaching, really and truly?” Christian asks as soon as Theodore slips out.

I shrug. “To be honest, it was the children. I _love_ children.”

Christian looks slightly uncomfortable. “You want children?”

I decide to ignore the look. “Someday,” I say quietly, “when I meet the right guy and it works out for the both of us. But, really, the kids. I mean, I always wanted more siblings, but Mom and Dad were so busy with their respective careers that they just didn’t have time for more than twins.”

“Does your mother still work?” Christian asks.

I nod, smiling. “She does. She’s an event coordinator, so she makes her own hours. Her company is called _Perfect Encore_. She’s been going at it for almost thirty years, and it does wonders.”

Christian slaps his knee. “No way! Your mom is Tilda Richié!”

I laugh. “Yes.”

Christian looks altogether amazed by this turn of events. “My mother and little sister, Mia, absolutely love her! Whenever they want to get an event by her, they always get that consultant of hers—Rupert something. He’s very…enthusiastic.”

I chuckle at that as I envision the man who was once Theo’s and my legal guardian, should something happen to Mom or Dad. “Rupert Johnson and his partner Eric Smyth are old family friends of ours. My mom met them over thirty years ago, and they were having far too many tequilas in Hawaii when they came up with the idea for the lucrative event-planning business. My mother’s parents are millionaires and she asked them to invest and well, _Perfect Encore_ was born.”

“How did she meet your dad?” he wants to know.

“My mom met him while planning my Aunt Samantha’s wedding. She was the planner, he was the best man… It was held up in Port Townsend, which is where they live now. Right on the water—totally beautiful, I’ve seen the pictures. It’s this small, beautiful, Victorian seaside town with less than ten thousand people. Someday, I want to move out there permanently and teach children…and write…”

Theodore comes in with my salad and Christian’s soup. We eat in silence for a couple of minutes, savoring the gourmet food. Another question comes to him and he manages to get my attention without being rude.

“Your teaching… You went to the University of Washington?”

I shake my head. “No, Theo went to the University of Washington. I went to Western Washington University, just to get out of the mold a bit. Plus, they’re one of the top places in the area to get a teaching degree.”

“And Theo? Did Theo go there too, or…?”

I shake my head again. “No, Theo went to the University of Washington. He left high school mid-way during sophomore year and went onto university. He got into their medical program after just one year, which was truly fascinating to me. He then managed to graduate from the program in just two years, so when I graduated high school, he’d graduated college. It involved him not having a part-time job, and he absolutely had to have a car due to the long hours he put into the school. Theo was just so dedicated that he would run on almost no sleep and one night, while driving home, he crashed the car and went right through the windshield.”

Christian choked on his soup. “What happened?”

I sigh. “His left hand is...well, it was barely mobile for a time and it was touch and go for a while. The doctor’s thought he was going to lose it—he _did _lose his right knee cap. It’s also why he’s so quick tempered—some lobe got damaged in the accident. He was in a rut until he got a scholarship to New York, to Columbia, and went. It took him until just this summer, and he did some travelling around Europe to take his mind off the accident.”

“Like where?” Christian asks.

“His dream was to go to Spain,” I say. “He always wanted to drink a mojito in Milan and get a suntan.”

Christian makes a face at my pathetic attempt at a poem.

“I know, I know,” I say, “but that was a direct quote.”

“So you say that Theo’s dream was to go to Spain?”

I nodded. “Yes, with utmost assurance, I can say so. I can honestly say that was his dream since we saw the map of the world in elementary school. He would constantly point to various locations and ask the teacher about them. He’d do that every year, with every teacher, and ask about something else every year. Our first year, it was architecture in Greece; our second year, it was about food in France; our third year, it was art in Italy, and then, by that time, we’d gone on to middle school, so he couldn’t, in his own words, ‘bother those poor teachers anymore’.”

“What about your dream?”

“My dream?”

“About where to travel,” Christian explains.

I laugh at that. “Oh. My dream. London,” I reply.

“London?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I desperately want to go to London, Christian. Ever since I was twelve or thirteen, I’ve just been captivated and entranced by it. Oh, the stories, the wonderful people, the words, the music, their lack of good food… I want to go there so desperately…”

Christian laughs, reaching across the table and taking my hand in his for the second time that evening. “I will make you a promise. If you come to my family’s tea party this weekend, and bring your mother—whom my mother and sister want so desperately to meet—I’ll take you to London for Christmas.”

“London? Christmas? Oh, no!” I cry, shaking my head.

“Don’t you want to go?”

“Yes, I…” I shake my head. “Desperately, Christian, desperately, but it can’t be at Christmas. I have traditions to keep up, here in Seattle… I couldn’t go anywhere at that time…”

Christian smiles. “I understand. Family things?”

I smile. “Yes, and various teaching functions leading up to the holidays… And besides, it’d be too soon, you know?”

He strokes my hand with his thumb, sending sparks and shivers all through me. “Then how about in the summer?”

I nod. “The summer, then.”

. . .

We finish our main courses and have ordered dessert. I order the crème brulee and Christian orders the flourless chocolate espresso cake. We finish our meal with a few minutes to spare before Theodore arrives with our dessert. He takes our meal plates and then withdraws, leaving our wonderful desserts before us. Christian and I take our first bite, mine onto spoon and his onto fork, and gently press them together before partaking.

I shut my eyes in a moment of ecstasy and giggle slightly for a moment before opening them and eating some more. We chat a little about this and that, and then manage to work Elena into the conversation. Elena expected us in her office at noon tomorrow, and hoped that Tabby was available to sit in on the meeting, for at two we’d have our first meeting with the co-council to develop potential strategy.

“When is Elena’s husband going in to arrest him?” I ask.

“Technically that’s confidential information, Ana, but I’ll break the code once just to prepare you,” he says, knowing that it was in my best interests to know this information, especially for my safety. “They’ve decided to arrest him tomorrow, around eleven. I guess I should have found out when The Electric Violin opens… I usually come there after I’ve finished work and I’m always working late…”

“It doesn’t open until seven p.m., but Ethan’s there every morning from ten until two to go over the books, clean up, and let the staff in. The staff arrives at two to get the place ready for opening.”

“Good. Elena says that the guy that Kate got in touch with at the camera company is going to provide a live feed into the office,” Christian says informatively. “If you can put on a good enough show in the courtroom to be sure that they won’t suspect that you’ve seen it before, you can watch.”

I feel sick in the pit of my stomach, but know I must watch. “Yes, I’ll bet you money that I can put on a convincing performance.”

Christian smiles, taking my hand in his again for a moment. He eats a few more forkfuls of his dessert, and I do the same with mine. Theodore arrives a few minutes later with the bill, and Christian immediately takes out his credit card and places it into the folder before Theodore whisks it away.

“So what does your sister do with her life?” I ask.

“Mia is in Italy studying to be a top-notch chef,” he replies.

“Italy!” I cry, grinning at the very thought of it. “That’s wonderful. I’ll bet it’s beautiful there, and to be there for school... What part is she in?”

“Florence, at the Florence Culinary Art School.”

“And she’s taking time off?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. She keeps a very rigorous sleeping schedule, and since she started at sixteen, she is able to take more time. She is in class Monday through Wednesday, and then takes a red eye from Florence to here, and then returns on a red eye on Sunday night.”

“So she’ll be back for the picnic?”

Christian nodded at that. “Yes, in a few hours, actually.” He checks his watch. “Well, it’s almost eleven. We’ve been here a while.”

I smile. I don’t want it to end, but that’s not something you’re supposed to say on the second date. Theodore comes back in good time and hands over the bill folder to Christian, who takes the provided pen and leaves what looks to be a thirty-dollar tip before getting to his feet. I take his arm and we follow Theodore out to the main entrance.

“I’ve had them pull your car around.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cunningham,” he says.

“It was lovely to formally meet you,” I say. “I think we must have seen each other at your sister’s Christmas parties.”

“Indeed, that must have been it,” Theodore says. “Please send your mother and father my best.”

“I will,” I reply. “Goodnight.” I slip outside after Christian, who hands over another twenty to the valet, who looks as if he is walking on air. I shoot him a smile as Christian opens the passenger door for me, and I shut it myself as he walks around the car, sliding in next to me with a grin.

He then drives away from the restaurant, and soon we find ourselves on Aurora Avenue, heading north, back to my parent’s house. I shake my head, and, almost as if he knows what I am thinking, he says that Theodore texted him the address, and I find I am smiling again at the notion that my twin actually cared. Theodore either approved of my dating Christian or he didn’t think it was any of his business.

We come to a red light on Aurora Avenue and Christian briefly drums his hands on the steering wheel, leading me to questioning him if he’d ever considered being a drummer, or some other kind of musician. “So with things improving with Kate, when do you think you’ll go back to the condo?” he asks, after laughing.

I shrug at that, completely unsure. “I don’t know. She hasn’t asked me back yet. She pays sixty percent of the rent and she found the place and lived there for over a year before I even considered moving in. Technically, it’s more her space than mine.”

“You’re close with your parents.”

It’s not a question. “Well, yes. After Theo moved to New York, they took three months out of every year to travel, so those six years Theo was gone, I spent a great deal of time with them. It was like being an only child…”

We get off Aurora Avenue at N. Eighty-Fifth Street and make a left, going up a rather steep hill before coming to a stop at the Linden stoplight. Traffic is light at this hour, and the wait is barely thirty seconds. We seem to glide through the intersection and continue on the drive, passing two different elementary schools—one Catholic, one public—and continue driving. We pass a Chinese church on our right and then go up another hill, coming to a stop, eventually, at a light, back on Fifteenth Avenue. We go through this light slowly, due to the busy intersection, and soon we are past Twenty-Fourth Avenue, and back in the exclusive-sounding Sunset Hill area.

We are soon on my parent’s street, and then we are back at the house. I see a light on in my parent’s garage, and I immediately know that they are not home, and wonder where they’ve gone so late at night. The light is out in Theo’s garage, strangely enough, so I know he will be inside when I get in. Christian parks in the driveway, turning off the car before turning to look at me, and takes my hand.

“I had a really good time.”

I smile up at him. “So did I. Thank you.”

His hand passes up my wrist, arm, and shoulder before coming to rest on my cheek, cupping it slightly. He gives me a smile before leaning in, and, at the halfway point, stops. “Would you mind if I…?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head.

He slowly closes the distance between us, and takes my lips gently in his own. I want to obliterate all I see and hear, so I lean in closer to him, and find myself opening my mouth under his. He shifts away in brief surprise before turning his head slightly, one hand going around my neck and holding me to him, his hands never rough. His tongue enters the situation, and I find myself working on automatic pilot. I must force myself to go half the speed I normally would when I put my arms around his neck. When he reaches downward, towards the small of my back, I immediately pull away.

“I’m sorry, I…”

He shakes his head. “No, I should apologize. I went too far.”

I sigh. “Christian…I should tell you. I was a virgin…”

At once, his gaze darkens. “You were a virgin before Ethan…?”

“Yeah,” I nod.

He turns away from me, swearing under his breath as hits his head once on his steering wheel. “Damn that bastard,” he says through his teeth. “I’m so sorry…”

“Hey,” I say, touching his cheek. “It’s okay, really. I know you want what’s best for me, and it’s kind of exciting to see a hot guy acting this way all because of me, due to the fact that I’m not used to it…”

He smiles at that. “You think I’m hot?”

“Do I even have to answer that question?”

“No,” he replies, chuckling.

And then we are kissing again, and, this time, I don’t want to stop, but I also don’t want to get caught having car sex in my parent’s driveway. “I thought that sex was off the table, but now…”

He sighs. “I understand.” Looking around like he has some great secret, he grins at me. “My parent’s house is a mansion… We’ll be at the tea party all of Sunday, so if we wanted to slip away to the guest wing, nobody would miss us for a moment.”

I bit my lip slightly, in an effort to contain my desire. “I think I would rather do it in your childhood bedroom. It would be…hotter.”

“I like the way you think,” he says, kissing me again. He then gets out of the car and comes around to let me out. When he takes my hand and pulls me up, he kisses me again, and he holds me along the length of his body, and I feel safe in his sculpted arms. Then he walks me to the door, and does so a third time. “Tell Theo and Kate that they’re welcome at the tea party as well.”

“They’ll appreciate that. Thank you.”

“I my parents to meet your parents, and your brother, and Kate. I think Kate and Mia would get along famously.”

“Tabby’s husband Jason is due in town on Thursday,” I begin.

“Invite them, too! Elena and her husband Eric are coming, too. My mother doesn’t approve of mixing business with pleasure, but maybe we can figure out more strategy on that day.”

I smile. “That sounds wonderful.” I let him kiss me again before I tear myself away from him and go into the house. I lock the door behind me for good measure before dashing up the stairs and going into my bedroom. I open the window, the white lace curtains billowing around me, and wave him off as he drives around the corner and out of sight.

Hopping down from the window seat, I shut the window and slip into the bathroom. I remove the dress, necklace, pantyhose, shoes, and makeup before slipping into a pair of flannel pants and a tank top. I check on Tess, who is sleeping in her bed, and kiss her head before opening my bedroom door. The light is on underneath Theodore’s door, so I go down the hall and tap on it. I don’t hear anything, so I think he fell asleep or something. Thinking nothing of it, I turn the handle and scream at what I see.

“Theodore, Kate, oh my god!” I scream.

There they are, in front of me, making love. Kate immediately screams as well before Theodore gets off of her and yanks up the bedsheet—thankfully I didn’t see anything. I immediately turn away, but the image is forever engrained on my memory.

“Wow, um, okay, so glad to see you’re alive. Um, I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night…” I awkwardly reach behind me and shut the door before smacking my head repeatedly as I run back up the hall. “Gross, gross, gross! Ew, ew, ew!” I run downstairs to the kitchen and get a glass of water, and decide that going to bed is no longer an option for me, especially right now.

I drift into the living room then, a glass of water in tow, and turn on the television, wanting to find something mindless to get me out of the funk. I turn it on to _Family Guy_, hoping that the cartoon characters, snappy dialogue, and me mentally cursing the FCC for bleeping out the curse words will distract me from what I just saw, and what I should have never seen, at any given time, in my life. Thankfully it is one of my favorite episodes, the season eight premiere called _Road to Multiverse_, where Brian (the family dog) and Stewie (the family baby) go on a journey to multiple universes.

Tess manages to find me upon the couch and curls up in my lap, completing the tranquility of the picture. I hear some footsteps coming down the stairs, and some hushed tones before the front door closes. Then a single pair of footsteps comes towards me, and I see Theodore standing there. He sits beside me, and Tess walks over to his lap.

“Hey,” he says to her before looking up at me. “Hey…”

I make an uncomfortable face. “I’m really sorry…”

“No, I… I thought you’d be out later.”

I sigh. “Well…” I nod at the television. “Distractions…”

Theodore looks up at the T.V. “Oh, I love this one…” He pays attention briefly to Tess until some commercials come on—fast food chains, mostly. “Did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Christian’s mom is having a tea party on Sunday and you’re all invited.”

“Sounds fun.”

He continued stroking Tess, almost as if contemplating what to say next. I am shocked at his reply, and force myself to say something.

“I’m surprised that you would consider the institution of a tea party fun,” I reply softly. “I mean, frilly dresses, tiny sandwiches, sticking up your pinky… Not exactly what I’d call _male entertainment_…”

He shrugs. “All in a day’s work to keep a family from squabbling…”

I turn back to the T.V. “Right,” I reply.

“How did it go tonight?”

“Fine. Christian is a gentleman.”

“I know,” Theodore replies. “And Kate is a lady. That’s what everyone needs in a partner these days.”

“That, and trust, loyalty, and honesty,” I tell him, my voice firm. “You need all three of those things to function well in a relationship with a partner, Theo. If you don’t have any of those things, there is no relationship—there can be no relationship. Politeness is just a bonus at this point, I guess…”

He smiles and nudges my shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short. If Christian isn’t the one, who cares?”

“Um, I would?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “What I’m saying is, if he isn’t the one, so what? ‘The one’ will definitely come along sooner or later, Ana.”

I sigh and shake my head. “I just hope by that time Tess doesn’t have an assortment of siblings and I’m confined to grandmotherly attire and living in a house which smells like cat piss. I want…”

He nods. “I know what you want. And that’s natural. And maybe you’ll get it with Christian, maybe not, but the point is, you’ll have it with someone.”

“At this point, I want it with him,” I reply.


	7. Buried Secrets

I immediately tell Kate what transpired between me and Christian, and she immediately springs into action. She formally kidnaps me from Theo’s care the following afternoon to take me to the mall, and although I cringe at what she is suggesting, I’ve put myself into her hands. We arrive and she pulls me from the car and takes me into the Gene Juarez Salon. Upon entering, she rattles off a whole bunch of things that absolutely need to be—apparently—done to me, and I find I do not know what she is talking about. I am taken from her less than comforting presence and whisked away to the back.

I am taken to a back room first, where my underarms, legs, eyebrows, and _way_ upper thighs are waxed. Once various parts of me are justifiably on fire, I am then rubbed with various scented lotions in order to dull all of the pain and inflammation. I am then pulled to the front, where my hair is washed, conditioned, and then submerged in some weird-smelling liquid. When I give a confused look to the woman, she smiles.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’re not changing anything. It’s to highlight and accentuate the natural color of your hair.”

I nod, knowing that I must allow her to do her job, although I wished that I knew what was really happening here. After that treatment is finished, she blow dries my hair and flat-irons it, the curls disappearing out of thin air. My hands and feet are then washed, lotioned, the nails buffed, before an attractive red is chosen for both. Then, makeup is given, and, by the time I’m finished, I’m embarrassed because Kate has paid for everything.

Kate then pulls me into the mall, and heads straight to the only store that I think would be appropriate for wherever Christian is taking me—Nordstrom. Upon entering, Kate announces our purpose, and whispers to them where Christian is taking me, something I don’t hear at all, and I am left to feel annoyed that I don’t know important information directly involving me. I am then laden down with various dresses, before I’m promptly gently shoved into a dressing room and told to try things on.

I settle on a black one which will hug my figure, because who doesn’t look good in black, really, and it makes me feel the most secure. Even Kate, who always tells me she thinks I dress far too conservatively for work, allows her eyes to pop when she sees my selection. Once I find some basic black heels, I know that I’m fully prepared for that evening. I gently nudge Kate out of the way at the counter—I wholly intend to pay for myself.

Just as I think we’re about to leave, Kate yanks me into one more store—Alana, an antique jewelry store that my mother loves. I myself love their pieces, but cannot afford them on my measly salary, and would never spend any extra money there. Nevertheless, my best friend pulls me inside the place, and bids me to choose something. I start to protest at this but then my eyes fall upon a pendant—simple, golden, circular—that the saleslady says was a watch cover, but has been converted into a pendant, and I find myself inexplicably drawn to it.

Kate mentions her interest, and asks the price, although I really think nothing of it, as she had been gazing at a ruby pendant, surrounded by flawlessly-cut diamonds. I nearly die on the spot when I hear the price, and attempt to leave the store—which is nearly six hundred dollars, and ultimately think that Kate is getting herself a pick-me-up for taking me shopping that afternoon, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. However, I watch as Kate waves it away, immediately handing over her credit card and her driver’s license, and it is then that I see that she is attempting to buy the thing that _I’d_ been looking at, and not her. Heart in my throat, I tell Kate—after the pendant is outfitted with another hundred-dollar chain—that I fully intend to pay her back, in full, possibly with interest. 

“You will do no such thing, Anastasia Steele,” she replies, paying for it as we leave the store. “I see something between you and Christian that I’ve never seen with you or any man. You’re falling for each other, I know it.”

My cheeks heat as I look away. “We’ve had one date…”

“And _lots_ of conversation,” she replies as we get into her car.

“He hasn’t even kissed me yet…”

“And you should eat that up,” she tells me as we pull out of the parking lot. “He seems like a rare exception when it comes to guys. He doesn’t seem into it for the sex.”

“Gee, thanks,” I grumble as we leave the Northgate area.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” she replies with a small giggle my way. “I mean, I know you sense that Christian seems a little old-fashioned...”

“Is that a bad thing?” I ask her.

Kate immediately shakes her head. “Not for you, no, especially after all that’s happened, and you’re doubly fragile right now,” she tells me. “I think that he doesn’t want to rush into anything, which is altogether pleasant, given your...inexperience when it comes to the opposite sex. I mean, it’s almost as if he doesn’t want sex right away—or, if he does, he’s really going in for all the wooing you want…”

“Sex is off the table,” I reply as we cross the intersection that acts as a border between the Northgate and the Greenwood areas.

She nods, gripping the steering wheel slightly. “Right,” she replies.

“For now,” I say softly.

. . .

I am back at my house at six-thirty. Christian texts me to tell me he is on his way, and that he will be there in fifteen minutes. I hurry to my bedroom, quickly taking out my new purchases and dressing, and managing to find a decent pair of pantyhose. I buckle my heels and stare at myself in the mirror, pursing my lips slightly. Knees clacking together, I barely hear the doorbell ring and scarcely hear my mother answering it a moment later.

“Oh, and you must be Christian,” she says.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Steele.”

“I’ll let her know you’re here,” my mother says calmly. “Ray, come out of your office to greet Christian, please.”

“Mr. Steele, pleasure to meet you,” Christian says a moment later.

“Christian,” my father says as I walk out of my bedroom and onto the landing. “I hear you may have saved my daughter’s life.”

Christian chuckles a bit at that. “Anastasia did all the saving, Mr. Steele. I simply wished to make sure she was all right.”

“Oh Ana,” my mother whispers, slightly gushing as she meets me on the balcony, her eyes twinkling in delight. “He’s adorable!”

I grinned at her, although “adorable” was never a word I’d use for Christian—gorgeous, or breathtakingly handsome fit the bill at bit better. “Just hope Dad likes him as much as you seem to do, Mama,” I reply as she takes my arm and walks with me down the stairs. “Hello, there, Dad. Christian, are those for me?” I ask, my eyes lighting up at the sight of the red roses, my favorite flower.

Christian smiles at me then, looking me up and down, and gasps slightly. “Well, yes, it would indeed appear so.” He seems to separate the flowers, when I notice that the seemingly giant bouquet is simply two dozen bouquets. “One is for your mother, the other is for you. And these, sir,” he says, taking out a decent-sized, smooth, ribboned box, “are for you. Theo mentioned you loved chocolate.”

“That’s my boy,” Dad says fondly, taking the box as my mother takes the flowers. “I know you’ll take good care of my daughter.”

“I will, sir,” Christian replies, taking my arm and leading me out.

I am relieved when neither of them question where we are headed as we walk down the garden path and towards his car. We get into that car of his again and drive away from Sunset Hill and in the direction of the Ballard Bridge. We drive past Market Street, and soon we are on Fifteenth Avenue, which takes us directly to the Ballard Bridge. We drive across it, passed Chinook’s, and I remember mentally to give Tabby a call to keep her in the loop about the investigation.

We continue on, passed a couple of underpasses, past a street called Dravus and passed the exit for West Seattle. We go under the Magnolia Bridge and soon we are back in Downtown. We get past the semi-seedy area, where it connects to Queen Anne, and soon we are back at the heart of it all. We go passed the street that The Electric Violin is on, and I deliberately don’t look down it, getting a sick feeling in my stomach.

We get into the neighborhood of valet parking and I’m not surprised at this point, for Christian Grey must make good bank with all of his successful cases, and the popularity he receives because of the verdicts was a clear indication of that, although I knew it was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to him. We go down Fourth Avenue again, and then we are outside The Cobb Building, and Christian gets out of the car, goes around to let me out, and hands over the keys to the valet, handing over a twenty-dollar bill like its loose change. He then takes my arm and takes me in, smiling in a friendly manner to the maître d.

“My usual table, please, Mr. Clayton,” he says politely.

“Of course, Mr. Grey,” Mr. Clayton replies, gathering up two menus and leading us towards the dining room. We continue through that room for some reason, and soon we are standing in a private room entirely. The doors proclaimed it “The Board Room”, and I am suddenly aware that I am in a private dining room. Fine carpeting decorates the floor and Christian and I sit at a not-overtly-large round table in the center of the room; while the room can hold a rather large circular table, it appears as if it has been removed. Fine wood paneling decorates the walls, with the walls being a striking red color. There is also a sideboard which holds an impressive replica of a white sailboat.

Mr. Clayton pulls my chair out in a gentleman-like manner for me and hands over a menu, and turns to Christian, familiarity in his body language. “Will you be having a wine this evening, Mr. Grey?” he asks.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest champagne, and sparkling cider for my date,” he says, with a sweet wink at me.

“Your date isn’t…?” he asks, and I assume they are old friends.

Silently, I remove my driver’s license from my wallet, without being asked, and flash a quick smile to Mr. Clayton. “Oh, I’m of age, I assure you, Mr. Clayton,” I reply, my voice as smooth as silk, “I just don’t like alcohol.”

“Very good… Miss Steele,” he says, looking from my license to me. “You’re not Dr. Raymond Steele’s daughter, are you?”

I nod. “I am.”

“I’m Paul, Gail’s older brother. Gail Taylor. I’m the co-owner,” he says, puffing himself up a little, so as he resembles a burgundy cardinal.

“Very nice to meet you, Paul,” I reply.

“And you, Miss Steele, I am simply delighted,” he replies, shooting me a smile before slipping out of the room.

“He’s very charming,” I say.

“Mrs. Taylor is one of your father’s patients?”

I nod, pleased and altogether touched that Christian is taking an apparent interest in the various individuals in my life. “Yes, and only child. I’ve known her since I was a little girl. I’m friends with her daughter, Sophie—the one who mentioned what happened between her and Ethan. Our other star witness.”

Christian grips the table’s edge when Ethan is mentioned. He lowers his eyes and I tense a little when I notice his jaw setting in contempt. “I might have to go out and get a lawyer myself…” He mutters, not letting go of the table so that I know its cloth will have creases in it by the end of the night.

“And why is that?” I ask, sipping my water slowly and attempting to remain nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Because, Anastasia, I am not often a reckless man, but, as you said, I’ve become entirely incensed, or so it would seem,” he tells me, obviously attempting to keep his temper. “I cannot stand by and allow Ethan to walk about, a free man. God, I mean part of me wants to go out and clobber him. I mean, what if I just—”

“Christian!” I say, raising up my hand upwards, almost as if to ward off the knight in him. “_No_, absolutely not. I could never be with a man who threatened violence. Yes, I may want to give Ethan a punch or two, but think about what I did last Friday—about what you did. About what we did together.”

He nods, sure of himself now. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, Ana.” He reaches forward and takes my hand. “You’re right. How I behaved just now was inappropriate and wrong.”

I smile at him. “It is all right. I know you mean well.”

We turn at the sound of the door opening, two ice buckets on a small, silver table, being pushed by Paul. He smiles at the pair of us, hand clasped, and wheels the table towards the other side of the table. Also on the table is a pair of elegant crystal wine glasses, which Paul raises momentarily to pour Christian’s champagne and my sparkling cider into. He places the green bottles into the respective ice buckets and then departs, giving us time to mull over our drinks and to consider what to order as he slips from the room.

“What are you thinking of?” Christian asks, nodding to the menu.

“The roast chicken, with the baked potato and a Caesar salad,” I reply, my mouth watering at the very mention of it.

Christian chuckles indulgently at my reply. “Are you deliberately choosing the most inexpensive main course?” he asks. “Don’t you want a steak?”

“I like steak, but I love chicken,” I say.

“No lamb?”

“I don’t like lamb.”

“Lobster?”

I shrug. “I don’t eat fish.”

“Wha—? No fish?!” he demands.

I laugh; I’ve had this conversation more than once. I’ve lived in Seattle my whole life and everyone is shocked when I tell them this. My mother and I swore off fish long ago; Theo only occasionally ate it and my dad was in love with the stuff. Kate wasn’t too fond of it either—she absolutely despised salmon, which certainly made grocery shopping easier. For most people, if they liked it, it was an act of treason or something pertaining to that because I didn’t like it; this mainly had to do with its rancid smell, plus the way it looked. I mean, really, how could I, a Seattleite, born and raised, not like fish, when so many of the premiere restaurants in the area served it?

“I hate it,” I reply. “The smell, the taste…it’s a cold, wet thing before it’s cooked, and I hate cold wet things,” I admit a little sheepishly to him. “Even the way it looks. It just makes me ill when it’s served with its eyeball still in its head like that. It’s unnatural, that’s what it is. But I _do_ like calamari…”

Christian laughs at that. “All right, all right. I’ll get a steak then, so as not to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Paul returns a few moments later and asks us in that cordial manner of his what we’d like to begin our meal with. Christian throws me a smile and orders the calamari, along with the French onion soup for himself, and the starter Caesar salad for me. We then decide to order our main courses, which we do. Paul recommends that, if we do decide on dessert—he slides a miniature menu onto our ice bucket table—that we should order it when we are halfway done with our main course.

“What made you decide to go into teaching, really and truly?” Christian asks as soon as Paul slips out again.

I shrug. “To be honest, it was the children. I _love_ children.”

Christian looks slightly uncomfortable. “You want children?”

I decide to ignore the look he gives me. “Someday,” I say quietly, “when I meet the right guy and it works out for the both of us. But, really, the kids. I mean, I always wanted more siblings, but my parents were so busy with their respective careers that they just didn’t have time for more than the two of us.”

“Does your mother still work?” Christian asks.

I nod, smiling. “She does, and very well. She’s an event coordinator, so she makes her own hours for the most part. Her company is called _Perfect Encore_. She’s been going at it for almost thirty years, and it does wonders.”

Christian slaps his knee. “No way! Your mom is Carlotta Marie!”

I laugh. “Yes.”

Christian looks altogether amazed by this turn of events. “My mother and little sister, Mia, absolutely love her! Whenever they want to get an event by her, they always get that consultant of hers—Rupert something. He’s very…enthusiastic.”

I chuckle at that as I envision the man who was once Theo’s and my legal guardian, should something happen to our parents. “Rupert Johnson and his partner Eric Smyth are old family friends of ours,” I explained. “My mom met them over thirty years ago, and they were having far too many tequilas in Hawaii when they came up with the idea for the lucrative event-planning business. My mother’s parents are millionaires and she asked them to invest and well, _Perfect Encore_ was born.”

“How did she meet your dad?” he wants to know.

“My mom met him while planning my Aunt Samantha’s wedding. She was the planner, he was the best man… It was held up in Port Townsend, which is where they live now. Right on the water—totally beautiful, I’ve seen the pictures. It’s this small, beautiful, Victorian seaside town with less than ten thousand people. Someday, I want to move out there permanently and teach children…and write…”

Paul comes in with my salad and Christian’s soup, before flashing us both a kind smile before he slips out again. We eat in silence for a couple of minutes, savoring the gourmet food. Another question comes to Christian and he manages to get my attention without being rude.

“Your teaching… You went to the University of Washington?”

I shake my head at him. “No, Theo went to the University of Washington. I went to Western Washington University, just to get out of the mold a bit. Plus, they’re one of the top places in the area to get a teaching degree.”

“And Theo?”

I smiled. “Theo left high school mid-way during sophomore year and went onto university. He got into their medical program after just one year, which was truly fascinating to me. He then managed to graduate from the program in just two years, so when I graduated high school, he’d graduated college. It involved him not having a part-time job, and he absolutely had to have a car due to the long hours he put into the school. Theo was just so dedicated that he would run on almost no sleep and one night, while driving home, he crashed the car and went right through the windshield.”

Christian choked on his soup. “Who found him?”

I lowered my eyes. “I found him,” I replied. “I was out late with Kate that night. We were at some party that she wanted to go to, and I didn’t...” I break off for a moment, knowing that the next part of the story could sound completely insane. “At the party, I was trying to clean something up when I was suddenly knocked into the refreshment table, and I went right into the glass punch bowl...”

“Seriously?”

I nodded. “Seriously. I told Kate that I needed to get to the hospital, and I was clutching my right hand, which I shoved in harms’ way. I was bleeding, and sober, so Kate wrapped up my hand and we got back to my car. On the drive to the hospital, I saw Theo on the side of the road and screamed so loudly that Kate could’ve crashed my car. We called 911 and they came and took us both in, and when they found out we were twins, but at different places, they thought it was crazy that he injured his left hand and I my right...”

“What happened?” he asked.

I sigh. “His left hand is...well, it was barely mobile for a time and it was touch and go for a while. The doctor’s thought he was going to lose it—he _did _lose his right knee cap. It’s also why he’s so quick tempered—some lobe got damaged in the accident.”

“And with you?” Christian wanted to know.

“My hand miraculously healed,” I replied. “I had a few bruises from that night—mainly in my efforts to evade Ethan,” I admit, shrugging my shoulders, and Christian nearly bends his soup spoon in half. “The cuts were virtually clean, and once the glass was removed, the stitches were given and I was all right.”

“And afterwards?”

“Let’s just say that Theo was in a bit of a rut until he got a scholarship to New York, to Columbia, and went. It took him until just this summer, and he did some travelling around Europe to take his mind off the accident.”

“Like where?” Christian asks.

“His ultimate dream was to go to Spain,” I say. “He always wanted to drink a mojito in Milan and get a suntan.”

Christian makes a face at my pathetic attempt at a poem.

“I know, I know,” I say, “but that was a direct quote.”

“So you say that Theo’s dream was to go to Spain?”

I nodded. “Yes, with utmost assurance, I can say so,” I replied. “I can honestly say that was his dream since we saw the map of the world in elementary school. He would constantly point to various locations and ask the teacher about them. He’d do that every year, with every teacher, and ask about something else every year. Our first year, it was architecture in Greece; our second year, it was about food in France; our third year, it was art in Italy, and then, by that time, we’d gone on to middle school, so he couldn’t, in his own words, ‘bother those poor teachers anymore’.”

“What about your dream?”

I blinked. “My dream?”

“About where to travel,” Christian explains.

I laugh at that. “Oh. My dream. London,” I reply.

“London?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I desperately want to go to London, Christian. Ever since I was twelve or thirteen, I’ve just been captivated and entranced by it. Oh, the stories, the wonderful people, the words, the music, their lack of good food… I want to go there so desperately…”

Christian laughs, reaching across the table and taking my hand in his for the second time that evening. “I will make you a promise. If you come to my family’s tea party this weekend, and bring your mother—whom my mother and sister want so desperately to meet—I’ll take you to London for Christmas.”

“London? Christmas? Oh, no!” I cry, shaking my head.

“Don’t you want to go?”

“Yes, I…” I shake my head, surprised at this apparent generosity and knowing that I had to be polite because of it. “Desperately, Christian, desperately, but it can’t be at Christmas. I have traditions to keep up, here in Seattle… I couldn’t go anywhere at that time…”

Christian smiles. “I understand. Family things?”

I smile. “Yes, and various teaching functions leading up to the holidays… And besides, it’d be too soon, you know?”

He strokes my hand with his thumb, sending sparks and shivers all through me. “Then how about in the summer?”

I nod. “The summer?” I ask. “Perhaps, Christian. Perhaps.”

. . .

We finish our main courses and have ordered dessert. I order the crème brulee and Christian orders the flourless chocolate espresso cake. We finish our meal with a few minutes to spare before Paul arrives with our dessert. He takes our meal plates and then withdraws, leaving our wonderful desserts before us. Christian and I take our first bite, mine onto spoon and his onto fork, and gently press them together before partaking.

I shut my eyes in a moment of ecstasy and giggle slightly for a moment before opening them and eating some more. We chat a little about this and that, and then manage to work Elena into the conversation. Elena expected us in her office at noon tomorrow, and hoped that Tabby was available to sit in on the meeting, for at two we’d have our first meeting with the co-council to develop potential strategy.

“When is Elena’s husband going in to arrest him?” I ask.

“Technically that’s confidential information, Ana, but I’ll break the code once just to prepare you,” he says, knowing that it was in my best interests to know this information, especially for my safety. “They’ve decided to arrest him tomorrow, around eleven. I guess I should have found out when The Electric Violin opens… I usually come there after I’ve finished work and I’m always working late…”

“It doesn’t open until seven p.m., but Ethan’s there every morning from ten until two to go over the books, clean up, and let the staff in. The staff then arrives at two o’clock to get the place ready for opening.”

“Good. Elena says that the guy that Kate got in touch with at the camera company is going to provide a live feed into the office,” Christian says informatively. “If you can put on a good enough show in the courtroom to be sure that they won’t suspect that you’ve seen it before, you can watch.”

I feel sick in the pit of my stomach, but know I must watch. “Yes, I’ll bet you money that I can put on a convincing performance.”

Christian smiles, taking my hand in his again for a moment. He eats a few more forkfuls of his dessert, and I do the same with mine. Paul arrives a few minutes later with the bill, and Christian immediately takes out his credit card and places it into the folder before Paul whisks it away, and I tap my fingers upon my knees, determined to say nothing.

“So what does your sister do with her life?” I ask.

“Mia is in Italy studying to be a top-notch chef,” he replies.

“Italy!” I cry, grinning at the very thought of it. “That’s wonderful. I’ll bet it’s beautiful there, and to be there for school... What part is she in?”

“Florence, at the Florence Culinary Art School.”

“And she’s taking time off?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. She keeps a very rigorous sleeping schedule, and since she started at sixteen, she is able to take more time. She is in class Monday through Wednesday, and then takes a red eye from Florence to here, and then returns on a red eye on Sunday night.”

“So she’ll be back for the picnic?”

Christian nodded at that. “Yes, in a few hours, actually.” He checks his watch. “Well, it’s almost eleven. We’ve been here a while.”

I smile. I don’t want it to end, but that’s not something you’re supposed to say on the second date, even after everything Christian and I had been through together. Paul comes back in good time and hands over the bill folder to Christian, who takes the provided pen and leaves what looks to be a thirty-dollar tip before getting to his feet. I take his arm and we follow Paul out to the main entrance.

“I’ve had them pull your car around.”

“Thank you, Paul,” he says.

“It was lovely to formally meet you,” I say. “I think we must have seen each other at your sister’s Christmas parties.”

“Indeed, that must have been it,” Paul says. “Please send your mother and father my best.”

“I will,” I reply. “Goodnight.” I slip outside after Christian, who hands over another twenty to the valet, who looks as if he is walking on air. I shoot him a smile as Christian opens the passenger door for me, and I shut it myself as he walks around the car, sliding in next to me with a grin.

He then drives away from the restaurant, and soon we find ourselves on Aurora Avenue, heading north, back to my parent’s house. I shake my head, and, almost as if he knows what I am thinking, he says that Theo texted him the address, and I find I am smiling again at the notion that my twin actually cared. Theo either approved of my dating Christian or he didn’t think it was any of his business.

We come to a red light on Aurora Avenue and Christian briefly drums his hands on the steering wheel, leading me to questioning him if he’d ever considered being a drummer, or some other kind of musician. “So, with things improving with Kate, when do you think you’ll go back to the condo?” he asks, after laughing.

I shrug at that, completely unsure. “I don’t know. She hasn’t asked me back yet. She pays sixty percent of the rent and she found the place and lived there for over a year before I even thought about moving in. Technically, it’s more her space than mine.”

“You’re close with your parents.”

It’s not a question. “Well, yes. After Theo moved to New York, they took three months out of every year to travel, so those six years Theo was gone, I spent a great deal of time with them. It was like being an only child…”

We get off Aurora Avenue at North Eighty-Fifth Street and make a left, going up a rather steep hill before coming to a stop at the Linden Avenue stoplight. Traffic is light at this hour, and the wait is barely thirty seconds. We seem to glide through the intersection and continue on the drive, passing two different elementary schools—one Catholic, one public—and continue driving. We pass a Chinese church on our right and then go up another hill, coming to a stop, eventually, at a light, back on Fifteenth Avenue. We go through this light slowly, due to the busy intersection, and soon we are past Twenty-Fourth Avenue, and back in the exclusive-sounding Sunset Hill area.

We are soon on my parent’s street, and then we are back at the house. I see a light on in my parent’s garage, and I immediately know that they are not home, and wonder where they’ve gone so late at night. The light is out in Theo’s garage, strangely enough, so I know he will be inside when I get in. Christian parks in the driveway, turning off the car before turning to look at me, and takes my hand.

“I had a really good time.”

I smile up at him. “So did I. Thank you.”

His hand passes up my wrist, arm, and shoulder before coming to rest on my cheek, cupping it slightly. He gives me a smile before leaning in, and, at the halfway point, stops. “Ana, I...” He whispered, and hesitated for a moment.

“Yes?” I asked.

His mouth set then, and he looked unsure of himself. “I’ve been dying to kiss you for days,” he said then, and I felt myself flutter inside at those words. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you, and do god knows what else, but now, I don’t think I can stop myself...”

“Then don’t,” I say quietly, letting him know that I wanted him to touch me, to confirm whatever this was between us. “Don’t stop yourself, Christian.”

He slowly closes the distance between us, and takes my lips gently in his own. I want to obliterate all I see and hear, so I lean in closer to him, and find myself opening my mouth under his, our gasps co-mingling for us both to hear definitively. He shifts away in brief surprise before turning his head slightly, one hand going around my neck and holding me to him, his hands never rough. His tongue enters the situation, and I find myself working on automatic pilot. I must force myself to go half the speed I normally would when I put my arms around his neck. When he reaches downward, towards the small of my back, I immediately pull away.

“I’m sorry, I…”

He shakes his head. “No, I should apologize. I went too far.”

I sigh. “Christian…” I whisper then, knowing that he has to know everything, and that I have to be truthful, if we are to go in this direction, and I hope he still has a desire to do so after I tell him the truth. “I should tell you. I was a virgin…”

At once, his gaze darkens. “You were a virgin before Ethan…?”

“Yeah,” I nod.

He turns away from me then, swearing under his breath as hits his head once on his steering wheel. “Damn that bastard,” he says through his teeth. “I’m so sorry…”

“Hey,” I say, touching his cheek. “It’s okay, really. I know you want what’s best for me, and it’s kind of exciting to see a hot guy acting this way all because of me, due to the fact that I’m not used to it…”

He smiles at that. “You think I’m hot?”

“Do I even have to answer that question?”

“No,” he replies, chuckling.

And then we are kissing again, and, this time, I don’t want to stop, any of it, but I also don’t want to get caught having likely embarrassing car sex in my parent’s driveway. “I thought that sex was off the table, but now…”

He sighs. “I understand.” Looking around like he has some great secret, he grins at me. “My parent’s house is a mansion… We’ll be at the tea party all of Sunday, so if we wanted to slip away to the guest wing, nobody would miss us for a moment.”

I bit my lip slightly, in an effort to contain my desire. “I think I would rather do it in your childhood bedroom,” I say before I can stop myself, and my inner goddess is staring at me then, open-mouthed. “I think it would be…hotter.”

“I like the way you think,” he says, kissing me again. He then gets out of the car and comes around to let me out. When he takes my hand and pulls me up, lengthwise against him, he kisses me again, and he holds me along the length of his body, and I feel safe and secure in his sculpted arms. Then he walks me to the door, and does so a third time. “Tell Theo and Kate that they’re welcome at the tea party as well.”

“They’ll appreciate that. Thank you.”

“I want my parents to meet your parents, and your brother, and Kate. I think Kate and Mia would get along famously.”

“Soph’s husband Boyce is due in town on Thursday,” I begin.

“Invite them, too! Elena and her husband Eric are coming as well,” he tells me then. “My mother doesn’t approve of mixing business with pleasure, but maybe we can figure out more strategy on that day.”

I smile. “That sounds wonderful.” I let him kiss me again before I tear myself away from him and go into the house. I lock the door behind me for good measure before dashing up the stairs and going into my bedroom. I open the window, the white lace curtains billowing around me, and wave him off as he drives around the corner and out of sight.

Hopping down from the window seat, I shut the window and slip into the bathroom. I remove the dress, necklace, pantyhose, shoes, and makeup before slipping into a pair of flannel pants and a tank top. I check on Tess, who is sleeping in her bed, and kiss her head before opening my bedroom door. The light is on underneath Theo’s door, so I go down the hall and tap on it. I don’t hear anything, so I think he fell asleep or something. Thinking nothing of it, I turn the handle and scream at what I see.

“Theo, Kate, oh my god!” I scream.

There they are, in front of me, making love. Kate immediately screams as well before Theo gets off of her and yanks up the bedsheet—thankfully I didn’t see anything. I immediately turn away, but the image is forever engrained on my memory.

“Wow, um, okay, so glad to see you’re alive. Um, I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night…” I awkwardly reach behind me and shut the door before smacking my head repeatedly as I run back up the hall. “Gross, gross, gross! Ew, ew, ew!” I run downstairs to the kitchen and get a glass of water, and decide that going to bed is no longer an option for me, especially right now, and attempt to get the images out of my head.

I drift into the living room then, a glass of water in tow, and turn on the television, wanting to find something mindless to get me out of the funk. I turn it on to _Family Guy_, hoping that the cartoon characters, snappy dialogue, and me mentally cursing the FCC for bleeping out the curse words will distract me from what I just saw, and what I should have never seen, at any given time, in my life. Thankfully it is one of my favorite episodes, the season eight premiere called _Road to Multiverse_, where Brian (the family dog) and Stewie (the family baby) go on a journey to multiple universes.

Tess manages to find me upon the couch and curls up in my lap, completing the tranquility of the picture. I hear some footsteps coming down the stairs, and some hushed tones before the front door closes. Then a single pair of footsteps comes towards me, and I see Theo standing there. He sits beside me, and Tess walks over to his lap.

“Hey,” he says to her before looking up at me. “Hey…”

I make an uncomfortable face. “I’m really sorry…”

“No, I… I thought you’d be out later.”

I sigh. “Well…”

“What are you watching?”

I nod at the television. “Distractions…”

Theo looks up at the T.V. “Oh, I love this one…” He pays attention briefly to Tess until some commercials come on—fast food chains, mostly. “Did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Christian’s mom is having a tea party on Sunday and you’re all invited.”

“Sounds fun.” He continued stroking Tess, almost as if contemplating what to say next. I am shocked at his reply, and force myself to say something.

“I’m surprised that you would consider the institution of a tea party fun,” I reply softly, and find I am utterly confused. “I mean, frilly dresses, tiny sandwiches, sticking up your pinky… I mean, it’s not exactly what I’d call _male entertainment_…”

He shrugs. “All in a day’s work to keep a family from squabbling…”

I turn back to the T.V. “Right,” I reply.

“How did it go tonight?”

“Fine. Christian is a gentleman.”

“I know,” Theo replies, and I know he is smiling. “And Kate is a lady. That’s what everyone needs in a partner these days.”

“That, and trust, loyalty, and honesty,” I tell him, my voice firm. “You need all three of those things to function well in a relationship with a partner, Theo. If you don’t have any of those things, there is no relationship—there can be no relationship. Politeness is just a bonus at this point, I guess…”

He smiles and nudges my shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short, Ana, please. If Christian isn’t the one, who cares?”

“Um, I would?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “What I’m saying is, if he isn’t the one, so what? ‘The one’ will definitely come along sooner or later, Ana.”

I sigh and shake my head. “I just hope by that time Tess doesn’t have an assortment of siblings and I’m confined to grandmotherly attire and living in a house which smells like cat piss. I want…”

He nods. “I know what you want. And that’s natural. And maybe you’ll get it with Christian, maybe not, but the point is, you’ll have it with someone.”

“At this point, I want it with him,” I reply, and, when I turn to Theo, even he doesn’t look surprised at my declaration.


	8. Bittersweet Interlude

I made a call to Tabby after Theodore headed up to bed. Tabby was a notorious night owl, and Gavin had a bit of a sore throat, so she was staying up. I said that she would be invited to the meeting the following day with Elena, but I didn’t want to keep her and Gavin apart, so I knew it would be better to cut the call early. Tabby explained that Gavin was improving and that she would be available the following day.

I went to bed after that, smiling to myself at what had transpired between me and Christian. I was giddy about seeing him the following day, and wondered what would happen. I slept until nine-thirty the following morning, and was surprised when I smelled pancakes. Excited, I got out of bed, threw on my robe, tugged on my slippers, and dashed downstairs.

“You two were out late last night,” I say, shooting my mom and dad both a smile as I take my seat across from Theodore.

“Late-night party over at the Stevenson’s house, kitten,” Dad replied, mulling over the front-page story in _The Seattle Times_. “Wendell and Betty sure know how to throw a good get together—Wendell had his famous brandy and Betty made those incredible meatballs, and they even had cocktail wieners,” he said, patting his stomach approvingly. “Their daughter Suzanne is getting married.”

I raise my eyebrows and turn to Theodore, who dated Suzanne briefly in high school to get over Kate. “Well, I hope that she does well with her new husband,” I reply.

Mom giggles as she brings a platter of fluffy-looking pancakes over to the table. “Suzanne is marrying a woman.”

“Oh!” I say, nudging Theodore. “Well, isn’t that nice? It’s Lucy Sullivan, isn’t it, Mom? I’ve seen the two of them around town…and on Facebook…and on Instagram,” I say.

“Yes, really a lovely young woman,” Dad says, taking two pancakes and bringing them onto his plate. “They plan on honeymooning in Cambodia. They also have it in their heads to adopt a little boy from there.”

“Well, adoption is a beautiful thing,” I say, taking my pancakes.

We speak of the meeting that afternoon, and I ask my parents about their day and what will happen in their respective schedules. Dad has half a dozen appointments lined up, but it will probably turn out to be more, due to his walk-in policy. Mom is meeting Rupert and Eric in the University Village to gush about potential clients. And Theodore is coming to the meeting with me to see Kate.

“How was the date last night?” Mom asks.

I feel my cheeks heat as I lower my eyes, not completely comfortable with discussing this in front of Dad and Theo. “Well…”

Dad gets to his feet, his pancakes half finished. “I’ve got some paperwork to go through in the office,” he says, leaving.

“I said I’d call Kate,” Theodore says, following Dad.

“Men,” my mother says, rolling her eyes. “Now, sweetheart, what happened last night with you and Christian? He seems like a very nice young man.”

“Oh, he is, really,” I reply. “In fact, we’ve all been invited to a party. He’s invited you and Dad, Theodore and Kate, Tabby and Jason, and me to a party at his family’s house.”

“Where do they live?” my mother asks.

“Mercer Island,” I reply.

“When is it?”

“Sunday,” I reply. “I may have checked the planner and I know that Dad takes weekends off, and you don’t have any appointments or meetings this weekend either.”

“What kind of party is it?”

“A formal tea party, apparently,” I reply. “Christian says that it’s a big deal to his mother and little sister, who’s flying in from Florence.”

“Try saying that five times fast,” my mother says, shooting me a good-natured grin. “Well, I do love tea and hats…”

I grin back, excited to get to the next part. “And apparently Mrs. Grey and Mia—who is Christian’s younger sister—are your biggest fans, Mom. Christian called you Tilda Richié, your pseudonym. Apparently Mrs. Grey and Mia always manage to book you for their parties and such, but they’ve only met Rupert.”

“Oh, yes, I know the house. We call it Grey Manor down at the office. It has a cobblestone driveway, leading up to a curved path, and there are carved lions by the front door, made from marble. It’s a double door type, and its amenities are amazing. A total of five bathrooms, four half baths, eleven bedroom suites—including the master—and a guest wing. There are four other wings to the house, one for each child and one for Mr. and Mrs. Grey. It’s a three floor place, not counting the basement or the attic. A fireplace in every bedroom, and they have a private indoor pool in what used to be a guesthouse. And there’s a courtyard and land surrounding it, and there’s a lake view and they have access to the lake. They even have a stable, and keep about half a dozen horses, too.”

“What on earth do his parents do to afford all that?” I want to know.

“Thomas Grey owns Grey D.D.S.,” replies my mother as she proceeds clearing the dishes from the table. “Apparently Adelaide was getting a cavity filled and she and Thomas fell in love, right then and there. He had to call in his assistant dentist for the rest of the day to keep the practice going. Then they had Elliot and Mia.”

“And Christian?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Elliot is blond, yes?”

I nod. “Yes, but…”

“Have you seen pictures of Thomas and Adelaide?”

I nod. “Yes, Leila’s shown them to me. Thomas has gone gray, but she tells me that he was a redhead. And Adelaide was a blonde, too…”

She nods. “And Christian…?”

“Has dark brown hair,” I say. Thinking back to my rudimentary biology skills, I quickly determine something. “Mom, was Christian adopted?”

She nods at me. “Yes. Rupert told me himself. Adelaide told him at some point during one of the parties.”

“Christian…poor, poor, Christian,” I whispered, my thoughts drifting to what I assume could have been an unhappy childhood, had he not been found by the Grey family. I decided to get ready immediately so as I’d have enough time to soothe him before the meeting. I got into the shower and, all the while, considered why Christian hadn’t informed me of his adoption. It wouldn’t have mattered if he was adopted or not, but I would have liked to have been privy to the information.

I noticed that the bruises had begun to yellow and I was pleased to see that. I got out of the shower and dried off, blow drying my hair as I did so. Stepping into my bedroom, I decided on a knee-length burgundy skirt, a white ruffled blouse, and simple black heels. I put on a golden locket which had once belonged to my grandmother around my neck and some red lipstick. I dragged my brush through my hair and, pleased at how I looked, checked the clock in my bedroom. It was after eleven, so I knew that we would have to “get out of town”—as my mother always said—very soon.

I left my bedroom, after putting a simple gray sweater on top of my blouse, and tucking my keys into my purse and went to Theodore’s bedroom. I tapped on his door and, after getting permission to enter, stepped inside. Theodore was wearing navy blue suit pants, a patterned button-down shirt, and a sports coat on top. He was just getting into his socks and shoes as I walked in, and smiled, taking note of the jingling sound coming from my purse.

“You’re driving?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“All right.” He takes his phone from the charger and puts it into the inner pocket of his jacket and turns back to me. “Ready? I’m meeting Kate for a quick bite and a drink at the Starbucks. Maybe that way you’ll have time to rendezvous with your boyfriend.”

At once, I feel my cheeks heat. “Christian isn’t my boyfriend, Theo…”

“Yet,” he says, grinning as he walks past me and down the stairs. We walk past the kitchen where we see Mom, carefully loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. We walk in and kiss her cheeks in turn, telling her we’ll call when we’re heading home, and then walk by Dad’s office. He’s just finishing with a phone call, so Theo waves and I blow a kiss as we walk by. We can hear him chuckling as we walk off.

We step into the garage and I automatically unlock my car. I get inside the driver’s seat and Theodore gets into the passenger side. I back out of the garage and we head off down the street. We make our way past the Locks—where boats can go through, north to Canada or south along the coast—and go towards Market Street and the Ballard Bridge.

Once across Fifteenth Avenue, we go on towards the Ballard Bridge. Theodore asks if I want a drink from Starbucks and I request a Grande cupcake Frappuccino and a chocolate chip cookie. Theodore makes a face at the multiple amount of calories I’ll be consuming, but I wave it away, promising to eat a salad later if I have to. We soon passed the Ballard Bridge, the multiple underpasses, and go past Queen Anne and Magnolia before getting into Downtown. Taking some back streets, we get to the parking garage and I find a decent parking space, next to the stairs and near an elevator to get Theodore to the Starbucks to see Kate.

I am excited to see Tabby, as I’ve made a call to Dean Channing, who agreed to set up a meeting with her and Jason, regarding her children joining the school community. I have his permission to pass on his number so as they can coordinate a good time. He’s asked me to sit in on the meeting, for—as the teacher with the smallest fourth grade class that year—I am the worthiest candidate for taking Henrietta into my class.

Theodore gets out and waves, saying that Kate is waiting down the street for him. I wave back, taking the elevator to the proper floor, and inform the secretary of my noon appointment with Elena. I am about twenty minutes early, so I am naturally told to wait. I sit down in the waiting area, and get onto my phone to check my email. I am about to tell Christian that I’m here, only to have a young woman to barge into the reception area, which startled me, and rightfully so.

Blonde and beautiful, she bounds to the front desk. “Diana!” she squeals, her tone worried as she gets closer. “Where’s Christian?! It’s an emergency!”

“Calm down, sweetie,” Diana replies evenly. “I’ll get him.” Diana presses a button behind the desk. “Christian, she’s here. Yeah, I’ll tell her. Thanks.” Diana presses another button and looks up at the girl. “Go ahead in, dear. He’s expecting you.”

The girl nods her thanks and dashes back. I am, at once, suspicious, but I decide not to let it get to me. I email Elena and tell her that I am here, and she comes to the front to collect me. She sees my face and raises her eyebrows to it.

“Your face, usually like a ray of sunshine, is as dark as a storm cloud today, Ana,” she remarks. “What’s going on?”

I sighed then, not wholly sure how to put it. “Christian and I have kind of been seeing each other,” I say softly as we enter her office.

She raises her perfectly-plucked eyebrows at that. “Oh. I would have thought someone would have told you the obvious.”

I scoff. “That he’s dating a hot blonde? Yeah, I kind of just figured that out,” I grumble back at her, flopping into one of her chairs, crossing my arms.

Elena shakes her head. “No. We had a break in last night.”

At once, I am on her. “A break in?”

Elena nods, sitting in her chair. “Yes. I’m afraid that they came into my office, managed to bust the lock, and found out the code to the safe—I don’t know how, I swear. They got into the footage we have on Ethan’s restaurant—from the night he assaulted you. They’ve destroyed the footage, Ana. As of right now, there’s no physical evidence—other than the rape kit by Dr. Greene—tying Ethan to you.”

“Shit,” I whisper, tears pricking at my eyes. “Shit, shit, shit…”

Elena nods. “Double shit, really,” she replies, hastily pushing a box of lotion-laced Kleenex towards me, shaking her head.

“Didn’t anyone get anything on camera?!” I demand.

She shakes her head, gritting her teeth. “Apparently, they had someone working for them back there, and the guy was good. They managed to edit out them coming in here, except for the part of them busting the lock in my office, and them at the safe—it must have slipped their minds.”

“And let me guess—nobody can get a positive I.D. on the person because they disguised themselves somehow?”

Elena nods. “Yes, exactly.” Sighing, she shakes her head, and we are silent for a few moments. “What’s this about Christian dating a hot blonde?”

“I thought you and Christian were close,” I mutter.

She nods at me then. “Yes. We’re best friends, but…” She picks up her phone and rifles through it briefly before nodding. She clicks something and turns it to me. “Was this the so-called ‘hot blonde’?” she asks.

Peering closer, I see a hot blonde—the hot blonde from the reception area—kissing Christian’s cheek. In the picture, Christian is rolling his eyes, yet he is smiling at the same time. The girls’ arms are wrapped around Christian’s shoulders—one in front, one in back—and Christian had his arm around her waist.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

Elena smiles at me, pulling her phone back towards her. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Ana,” she replies.

I raise my eyebrows. “You’ve _seen_ her!” I cry. “She’s way more physically attractive than I am, and…”

“You’re far more intelligent that she is, trust me,” Elena replies, waving it away with a perfectly manicured hand. “And while Mia is more conventionally beautiful, Ana, you’re more classically beautiful,” she tells me, her voice firm, in an effort to get me to believe her opinion. “And besides, Christian has a love for brunettes.”

I blink, shaking my head at her and feeling as if I’ve been unexpectedly doused in a fair amount of cold water. “Mia?” I ask.

Elena nods. “Yes.”

“Mia, as in Mia Grey, Christian’s little sister?”

Elena smiles. “The same.”

I put my head into my hands. “Oh, god…oh, god…oh, god…”

She giggles at me then, and I pull my hands away. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Christian what you thought—it’s too disgusting to even fathom.”

“Once you consider their relationship, yes…”

Elena picks up her phone and presses a button. “Christian, I’ve got Ana in here pining away for you. Yes, actually, it’s very funny,” she says, giving me a grin I’m reluctant to return at this point. “Yes, she knows who you’re with. Well, I would have thought you’d have wanted to do the honors, but… Okay, okay. Yes, there’s fifteen minutes to the appointment, so you can borrow my office to see her. Yes, it’s fine. No, I’d love to see her. All right. Cool.” She hangs up the phone and gets to her feet.

“What’s happening?” I ask.

“Christian is coming to see you and I’m going to see _Her Majesty_, Princess Mia of the House of Grey.”

“Your Highness…”

Elena turns. “What?”

“‘Your Majesty’ is more of a term for a king or queen,” I say, my voice devoid of any emotion whatsoever. “Since you’ve dubbed Mia to be a princess, then ‘Your Highness’ would be more appropriate in this circumstance…”

Elena nods to herself before slipping out. I get to my feet and walk around her desk to stare at her incredible view. The cool autumn sun is out today and gleams against the sides of many buildings around us. I can see the water of Lake Washington beyond, and the sun sparkles on the surface. The door opens behind me and I turn, more slowly than I intended, to see Christian’s face.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey.” He crosses the room and stands within an inch or so from me. He takes my hands in one of his and, with the other, puts it to my cheek. “I missed you last night.”

I blush and lower my eyes. “So did I.”

“How was the rest of your evening?”

“Interesting,” I confessed then, peering up at him. “I accidentally walked in on Theodore and Kate in a fit of passion.”

Christian raises his eyebrows. “I see.”

I sigh. “Needless to say, both of them and my parents have accepted the invite to your mother’s tea party.”

He chuckles at that. “Wonderful. Mother will be pleased.”

“Christian…” I sigh and shake my head. “My mom told me about your adoption. Now, I’m not angry,” I say in a rush, hoping that he will not be so with me. “I think adoption is a beautiful thing, but…”

“But you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you of my… Biological parentage,” he says, gripping my hands slightly.

I nod. “Yes.”

He sighs then, shoulders deflating. “For now, let me apologize for not being honest, and for you to have to discover it from that of a third party. Can we leave it at, my birth parents were not the proper ones for me, and that they were ill-prepared, and unwilling, to take on a child at that point in their lives?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied, closing the distance between us. I rested my head upon his shoulder, and he wraps his arms protectively around me. “I know you will tell me when you think the time is right.”

He dips his head down to mine and brushes my lips with his. “Thank you,” he replies. “You are too good.”

I smile. “I attempt to be.” I stand on my toes and kiss him again. He doesn’t take long to deepen the kiss, and I find I don’t want him to stop.

At once, he pulls back. “Not that this isn’t wonderful,” he says, more than likely seeing the crushed expression on my face, “but we promised to wait until Sunday.”

I smirk. “After we’ve known each other over a week?” I ask. “I make a rule that I have to have five dates with someone before I…”

He kisses me again. “Are you free tonight?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Then, let’s have another date tonight, and another tomorrow. By the time Sunday rolls around, we’ll have had well over five dates.”

I smile. “All right.” Looking around, I shake my head. “Did Elena tell you about the break in last night?”

“She didn’t have to,” he replies. “Someone managed to get into my files and even lifted some of them. Our people are on it.”

I sigh. “Did Elena tell you what was stolen?”

“No, not yet. We’ve had meetings all morning since seven.”

I sighed then, knowing what was coming. “The footage—the incriminating evidence against Ethan—was stolen this morning. Kate told me that the guy who sent it to us wipes everything clean after a certain amount of days, so…”

“Dammit,” he says, letting me go. “I can’t believe it.”

I sigh, shutting my eyes for a moment. “I have a plan.”

“What kind of plan?”

Opening my eyes, I walk up behind him. Encircling my arms around his waist, I rest my cheek against his back. I feel his heart beating, and it helps me get through what I have to say. “We need to devise a sting operation.”

At once, he turns around, his eyes excited. “That’s completely genius, Ana! I’ll go in there with a wire, and…” 

“_No_, not you, Christian,” I say firmly. “It can’t be you. Whoever got the tape must know that you were in the footage by this point. We’ll get Elena’s husband in on the plan, as well, to ensure maximum security for everyone involved. I’ll find a neutral location, and then we ask Ethan to come. I’ll talk to him, one on one, and we’ll get him to confess, through recording, why he did what he did.”

“I _won’t_ let you do this alone,” Christian says firmly.

I sighed, shaking my head. “Then, Tabby is the one who should be with me. He did something far worse to her.”

“I know about the rape,” Christian says softly, pressing his forehead to mine. “That must have been devastating for one so young…”

“And then the matter of the baby,” I say, shaking my head.

At once, I have his attention. “The baby? What baby?” he demands.

I raise my eyebrows at his surprise. “You mean you don’t...?” I shake my head then, knowing that I have to remain as on top of this as possible. “Tabby had a son named Jeremiah when she was eighteen years old,” I say softly. “Jeremiah was confirmed—though an interesting channel—to be Ethan’s son.”

“Ethan wouldn’t willingly give up DNA,” Christian guesses.

I nod. “You’re right. Tabby lifted some DNA from Kate, and there was found to be similar patterns in their individual DNA, making Kate his paternal aunt, according to the findings of the lab.”

“How did Tabby know for sure?” Christian asks.

“Tabby—although now she is an outspoken atheist—came from a rather strict Catholic upbringing, which favored no sexual contact before marriage,” I explained in a patient manner to him.

Christian nodded. “I see.”

“So, after the rape by Ethan, Tabby knew that—at seventeen—she would be seen as a deviant because Ethan was only fifteen at the time, and therefore, authorities would have frowned on her claim of assault and be more prone to believe Ethan, the younger party, because Tabby was the older party and, therefore, should have had more control, in the eyes of the law, at the situation.”

“You’re brilliant!” Christian cries.

I chuckle. “Highly logical,” I correct him. “Anyhow, after only a few weeks of wondering what to do, she met Jason, a self-made oil millionaire. Jason was, and remains to be, a wonderful man. Jason agreed to marry Tabby and they got married, because Tabby had been weeks away from turning eighteen. They then moved to California, where Jason formally denounced any claim that Jeremiah wasn’t his, but privately adopted him because, for years, Tabby claimed not to know who the biological father was.”

“And they’re still married?”

“Yes, and happily. They had two other children.”

Christian nods, already at work in his head. “You and Tabby will arrange to meet at a neutral location. When Tabby arrives later, we will instruct her to remain open and friendly, so as to get all the information you can. You will both be outfitted with wires. If Ethan brings up his night with you at The Electric Violin, laugh it off, or make light of it. I know it sounds crazy, but you have to get him to keep talking, to incriminate himself. We need him to actually acknowledge what he did to you. As for Tabby, she must make light of her situation with him as well, and only ask questions that he poses to her. If Ethan asks her questions—or you—you must only respond ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

“What if it’s not a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer?” I ask, worried.

“Then short answer,” he replies. “Keep it casual, low-key, and above all, don’t let it get on that you’re recording everything.”

“I’m frightened,” I whisper.

Christian nods. “I know. But you can’t let Ethan know that.”

. . .

I walk out to the reception area when Diana pages Elena, telling her that Tabby has arrived. I embrace her and take her back to Elena’s office, where Theodore and Kate have also gathered. I let Tabby take a seat before I go to stand near Christian, apprehensive about the meeting. Elena has heard of the sting operation and is about to tell everyone else about it before calling in her husband to organize it.

“We’ve had a break in last night,” Elena tells everyone else. “It seems as if the person behind it had someone on the inside, for nearly all the footage that caught the perpetrator was destroyed.”

“Nearly?” Kate demanded, always paying attention to the minor details in people’s conversations.

Elena sighs. “Yes. The only evidence we have on the guy is him breaking into my office and getting into my safe.”

“Your safe… Where the footage of Ethan violating my sister is kept?” Theodore asks, eerily calm.

Elena nods, pursing her perfectly red, lipstick-covered, lips. “Yes. Unfortunately, that seemed to be exactly what they were after, because this morning, after we all received word about it, we were all instructed to check our safes and filing cabinets.” 

“They managed to lift about two dozen of my files, and the perp’s takings were not limited to recent documents,” Christian quickly puts in, leaning slightly on Elena’s desk to distract himself from potentially throwing something. “They got all my information on this case, as well as a bunch of information on several different cases.”

“They took the evidence of Ethan doing what he did to Ana?!” Theodore demanded, his face turning red in anger.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Elena replies.

Theodore turns to Kate. “Call the footage company again,” he demands, his tone desperate. “They can send Elena another copy!”

“It isn’t that easy, I’m afraid,” Kate says smoothly, used to negotiation tactics when it came to difficult situation. “My contact informed me that he wipes the system clean every twenty-four hours.”

“Dammit,” Theodore says, slamming his fist down upon Elena’s desk in a moment of frustration at the situation. “Dammit all…”

“Which is why Ana has mentioned the idea of a sting operation,” Elena puts in quickly, ignoring any potential damage to her desk.

“A sting operation?” Theodore asks, looking from me, to Christian, and to Elena. “I’ll need a little more information here.”

“I’d meet with Ethan,” I say quietly.

“No,” Theodore says immediately.

Tabby straightens in her seat then, curious. “Would I go with you?” she asks, ignoring my twin’s outburst.

“Ana suggested it,” Christian replies, “but only with your consent. She doesn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

“_No_,” Theodore said again, more firmly this time.

“This whole situation is uncomfortable,” Tabby replied. “But Ethan needs to be brought to justice. It may be too late for me, but Ana needs it done for herself as well.”

“Do we have your permission to fit you with a wire?” Elena asks. “My husband, Eric, is the chief of police, and he would arrange the whole organization. We would have you two meet Ethan in a neutral location, and speak calmly and rationally, answering with only a ‘yes’, ‘no’, or some other kind of short answer.”

“And how would we arrange this?” Tabby asks.

“This isn’t happening,” Theodore says.

“Someone—one of my husband’s officers—would go incognito to The Electric Violin, and tap in to his part of the conversation,” Elena explains, continuing to ignore Theodore’s concerned outbursts. Then one of us would outfit the both of you with a wire while one of you makes the call.”

“Ana should make the call,” Tabby replies, not unkindly. “I only exchange the occasional Christmas card with Ethan, and Jason only told me to do so because then it would appear less suspicious. We don’t want any suspicion drawn to us…”

“I’ll make the call,” I reply. “When can we do this?”

. . .

Theodore and I were told to return home and wait for the police to get in touch with us. It would happen around three, they said, and so we were instructed to wait. Kate and Christian came as well for support and, after checking in on her kids, Tabby came to join us as well. Dad was seeing a few outpatients that day, and Mom was working on a banquet in Downtown Edmonds, so both would be gone for several hours.

At three-fifteen, Chief Eric Lincoln came to our front door, and we let him into the house. He greeted Christian warmly, and several of his officers came into the house as well. “Everyone, these officers are my close friends and the best people for the job. This is Officer Martin Radcliffe,” he said, introducing a man with jet-black hair and blue eyes. “This is Officer Raymond Harcourt,” he said, introducing the one who was of middling height, and balding brown hair. “This is Officer Leo Essex,” said Chief Eric, nodding to the African American gentleman. “That’s Officer Harry Fox, Officer Ben Percival, and Officer Campbell Trotter,” he said, pointing out a blond man, an Asian man, and a man who looked as if he could be homeless.

“What do we do?” Theodore asks.

Chief Lincoln nodded. “I have to instruct everyone, with the exception of Anastasia and Tabitha, to remain silent as the phone call goes on. We don’t want to screw this up,” he said firmly, giving Theodore a look like a principal would give a student who could potentially give them trouble. “Anastasia will make the call.”

I sit up straighter on the couch, feeling comfort as Christian sits beside me, Tabby on my other side. “That’s fine.”

“You’d better use your landline,” Eric says carefully, and Theodore immediately gets to his feet, retrieves it, and hands it over to me. Eric, who has a wire attached from his midsection, and connected to his ear, which looks like a hearing aid, whispers, “Are we all set at TEV?” he asks.

I hear some buzzing then and feel comfort that Elena’s husband has a contact at the restaurant. Eric nods to me to begin.

“You’re on,” he says.

Biting my lip, I pick up the landline and dial the number. Shivering, I do my best to hold onto my parents’ seldom-used landline. I press the speaker phone button at Eric’s motion and wait.

“The Electric Violin, this is Matthew,” says a voice.

I look at Eric, panicked. However, at his instruction, I know just to be myself. “Hello, can I speak to Ethan, please?”

“Who may I say is calling?”

I clear my throat. “Tell him it’s Anastasia Steele,” I reply, attempting and failing to picture Matthew in my head.

“One moment please,” Matthew says, expecting nothing.

Eric gives me a thumbs up as I’m put on hold. I shiver, and Christian pulls me closer to him. I so long to lean into him and forget about all the people around us, but we have a job to do. A job I promised to be a part of.

“Ethan here,” a voice says on the other line.

“Ethan!” I cry, like I’m greeting a long-lost friend—which is not too difficult considering that, a few days ago, that’s exactly what he was.

“Hey,” he says cautiously.

I look at Eric, who mouths to keep it natural. “How are you?”

“Fine, thanks. How are you?”

“I’m incredible, fantastic,” I say, forcing myself not to speak through my teeth at him. “You’ll never guess who’s in town.”

“Who?” he asks, obviously relieved that I’m not going to back him into a legal corner over the phone.

“Tabby!” I cry, flashing a grin at her, and she does her best to smile back. “She and her husband are moving back with their three kids.”

“Wow, really? It’s been… What, twelve years?” he asks, feigning surprise.

“Yeah, well she and I were talking about getting together for lunch and she thought that it’d be great if you could join us. Jason is coming tomorrow so that they can go house hunting—I mean, they’re moving back to the old area! Isn’t that great?”

“Yes. Fantastic,” Ethan replied.

“So, like I said, we’re busy tomorrow, but we’re all free Sunday. How does your schedule look?” I ask.

“Sunday’s great,” he replies, and Eric gives me another thumbs up at how well I’m able to keep it cool. “How about 8 oz.?” he asks, naming a semi-upscale burger joint near my parent’s house. “I’ve been in the mood for burgers lately.”

I turn to Tabby, who nods at the proposal. “I’ll check with her, but I think that’ll be fine. What time should we do it?”

“How’s one?” he asks.

“That’s perfect,” I say, just a fraction of a second after Eric and the rest of the officers give me the thumbs up for a third time. “I guess she and I will see you then.”

“Great,” he says. “So, no hard feelings, huh?”

I turn to Eric, who nods for me to continue the conversation. “No hard feelings? About what, Ethan?” I ask, not wanting to jeopardize the mission, but also wanting him to admit to what he did.

“About the other night, you know, when you were here,” he says.

I sigh, looking up at Eric, who quickly gives me a gesture not to pursue this topic of conversation over the phone. “Of course not,” I say.

“Good,” he replies. “See you Sunday,” and the line goes dead.

“Of course, my officers will be picking him up then,” Chief Eric says as I properly hang up the phone, “as we’ll all be at the tea party.”

. . .

Immediately after hanging up with Ethan, I run upstairs to my bathroom and throw up for exactly ten minutes. I grip the sides of my toilet, sobbing and vomiting all at once, attempting not to fall down in despair. I hear footsteps behind me and feel Christian’s comforting hands on my shoulders, going up my neck, and gently gripping onto my hair before managing to put it into a ponytail. He rubs my back momentarily, letting me know that he is here for me, but he does not overstay his welcome. He then retreats to my bedroom to give me space but close enough to know that he isn’t deserting me.

I am at last able to get to my feet and I cross my bathroom to the mirror and gaze at my reflection. I am pale and look disgusting, but I know it will get better once I brush my teeth and wash out my mouth. I do so, and then wash my hands and take my hair back down. I brush it, and then go into my bedroom where I sit beside Christian on my bed.

“Sorry you had to see that,” I say lamely.

He smiles at me then and takes my hand. “What you had to do was ugly. I should have never agreed to it.”

I shrug. “It had to be done.”

“You’re very brave, you know that?”

I shrug again, a bit ruefully this time. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” I purse my lips, suddenly not wanting to be in my childhood bedroom. “Tell me, Christian, and don’t lie… Where do you go to get out of your head for a while?”

He looks at me for a moment before pulling me in a gentle manner to my unsteady feet, and just holds me for a moment, allowing me to lean on him. “Come on,” he says after half a moment, grabbing a sweater for me as we walk out of my bedroom. When I throw him a questioning look, he replies, with a sweet smile at me, “It’s a surprise.”

“But… Chief Eric,” I say.

He smiles at my consideration towards the mission. “Theodore and Kate said goodbye to them; they’re gone.”

I shake my head, chuckling to myself as Christian leads me from my bedroom and out the front door of parent’s house, and raise my eyebrows as he opens the passenger door to his car for me. I get inside, and buckle myself in as he walks to the other side and lets himself in. I say nothing as we head down the street, to Market Street, and then turn onto Fifteenth Avenue to the Ballard Bridge. We go over the bridge, and then make a right, going above the first underpass and then go on a curved left turn and then continue to head towards Queen Anne.

After passing various apartment complexes, and small businesses, we pass a bank on our right, and then turn down that street. We pass the campus of Seattle Pacific University, and continue up the hill ahead, and keep going up it until we come to a five-way stop. Kitty-corner to us is a hardware store, and to our left is a real estate business. Around us on every other corner are houses, and we make a right and continue on that street.

We come to a corner where there is a small market, which nearly has every parking space in its small lot occupied. I wonder then what makes the market so special to have so many customers. Directly next door to the market is a tiny coffee shop, and kitty-corner is a dry cleaner, and soon we are going forward another block before turning left and continuing on that street for a time.

Christian then pulls off to the side of the road and parks his car efficiently. He then gets out and escorts me out of the car, telling me to stare at the ground until he gives me permission to look. Giggling at this, I allow him to lead me across the street, where my feet hit grass soon after crossing. Looking up, I see a sign which reads Parsons Gardens, and, all around me, is a small-looking, secret garden, which fills me with joy.

Ahead for the next several yards or so, was some brightly-colored green grass, seemingly untouched, despite all the children that likely ran through there. I look around the grass, and there are large, flowering bushes around the plain, and a dirt path encircling it all. Christian takes me along the path, naming various flowers as we walk, and I spot a tree that looks perfect for children to climb. I spot a stone bench which Christian leads me to, and I sit beside him, resting my head on his shoulder.

“This place really is beautiful, Christian,” I whisper. Behind me is a stone-like, square-shaped, flower box, built into the ground, that would look better as a rose pond. “How did you find this place?”

“On the day of the verdict of my first case, my client was found guilty,” he tells me, his voice a whisper. “I was so angry that I left the courthouse and was driving on automatic pilot—I wasn’t really watching the road.”

“I see.”

“Finally, when I couldn’t drive anymore, I stopped the car,” he continues then, his index finger gently roving over my knuckles. ‘When I looked up, here I was.”

I picked up my head and looked at him, my brows knitting together. “And they say that you’re the best lawyer around, in the state, and that you haven’t ever lost a case.” I arch one of my eyebrows. “Should I be worried?”

He smiles. “Of course not, Ana. The verdict was thrown out on a technicality and my client was then found ‘not guilty by reason of temporary insanity’, on the record. It was so rewarding to be given a second chance like that.” He takes my hand. “I never thought that I’d be given a chance like this.”

“Romancing one of your clients?” I ask.

He chuckles. “Technically you’re Elena’s client…”

“I know.”

“I’m just glad that I’ve found someone like you, Anastasia Steele,” he replies, gazing at my profile. “You’re amazing in every way.”

I turn and smile up at him, kissing him briefly. “Looks like I may have to throw out my other statement earlier, about you not working hard enough to get to my five-date rule. We just need one more between now and the tea party, and you qualify.”

Christian smiles, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m glad.”

I sigh, burrowing into his arms, wanting to feel him holding me. “I’m scared about meeting Ethan at any point before this goes to trial. I know that you, Tabby, Elena, and everyone else will be there, but what if something goes wrong? What if Ethan and his lawyer cook up something between now and then? What if they both manage to dig up some dirt on me and Tabby? What if…?”

Christian gently takes my head in his hands, placing his forehead against mine. “I know how scared you are, Ana. I am, too. I don’t want to lose this.”

“Neither do I,” I reply.

“We could lose our minds, and our heads, wondering ‘what if this’ and ‘what if that’,” he says simply, tangling his fingers in my hair to calm me down completely. “It’s a really scary thing—a rape trial. If you do half as well as you did today when it becomes your turn to testify, I know we can pull this off.”

I shake my head, lowering my eyes, yet feeling secure beneath his gaze. “I know we can, do all that, too,” I reply. “I know we can do all that and more.”


	9. A Key Into the Past

Christian took me to his favorite Mexican restaurant for some take out for our dinner, which just so happened to be back down the street and around the corner from Parsons Gardens in Queen Anne. I had the best tacos in the world, yet I was relieved for the drive home, for Christian said he had to get me back early, because he was going to be busy planning another date for the following night. It was just what I needed, dating, at a time when the rest of my life was shattered in a thousand pieces.

Christian kissed me goodnight affectionately and I headed back inside. I found I felt slightly sad without him, but nevertheless went to the living room after finding a note from my parents telling me that they’d be out late again. Theodore joined me about a quarter of an hour after I got back, Tess much preferring his lap to mine. We turned on another animated show we adored, _American Dad_, finding humor in the lead character, Stan Smith’s, forgetting his and his wife, Francine’s, anniversary after a grand total of twenty years of marriage.

“Big date tomorrow?” Theodore asked during a commercial.

“Apparently,” I replied with a smile. “We just got Mexican tonight…and Christian took me to his secret place…”

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “Took you to his apartment already?”

I lean over to smack his arm. “No! It was a garden.”

Theodore laughed at the notion of our evening together. “No wonder he won’t commit and you won’t do the deed,” he chuckles.

My eyebrows knit together at that. “Tread very carefully as you attempt to tell me what you mean,” I tell him slowly.

“Christian probably wanted to tell you gently tonight,” he says, pretending to be fully absorbed in Tess as he scratches her beneath her chin. “He probably wanted to let you know that he was gay.”

I laugh aloud at that. “Theo, you know I’m as okay with gay people and with gay rights as you are, but come the hell on.” I stretch out my legs and place them on the table, and deliberately don’t look at him for the next tidbit of information I’m about to tell him. “We’ve already set a day.”

Theodore gasps in such a surprising noise of shock that it scares Tess, prompting her to run for cover in the kitchen. “What?!”

“The day has been set.”

“Surely you’re not going to…?!”

“Not going to…? What?”

“You’re not going to marry the guy are you?!”

I attempt to keep a straight face at the notion of marrying Christian. “Not marriage. _That_,” I say, stressing doubly on the word.

“_That_…? Oh…” Theo raises his eyebrows knowingly.

I nod. “Yep. This Sunday.”

“Ana, I really don’t think…”

My gaze stops him. “We’re both over twenty-one, and I am adhering to the five date rule,” I say firmly. “The tea party will count as date number five. Tonight was date number three, and tomorrow date number four.”

“So I take it Friday is time off for good behavior?” Theodore asks.

I shake my head. “No. He’ll probably have something planned for that night, too,” I reply with a small shrug.

Theodore shakes his head. “Just be careful.”

“Why?” I ask. “He’s no Ethan.”

Theodore grips the fabric of the couch cushion. “He’d better not be,” he growls back. “I wouldn’t want to personally pummel your new boyfriend.”

I rolled my eyes at him and his protectiveness. “We haven’t been proclaimed as boyfriend and girlfriend yet,” I remind him.

“Well, he’d better proclaim you, and soon,” he tells me as Tess sneaks back from the kitchen and returns to his lap. “Seriously. We’re not in high school anymore, Ana. If you just say ‘that guy I’m sleeping with’ at functions, people are going to give you dirty looks. It’s kind of frowned upon in professional society in this day and age.”

I raise my eyebrows at the meaning behind it all. “Somebody sounds like they’re speaking from some form of experience. What? Did someone get too hopped up on cocktails at some bar in Brooklyn and accidentally take home a man?”

“It was New York, New York, Ana,” my twin replied, crossing his arms. “And I thought we discussed it as a one-time thing?” he growled.

“One-night stand thing?” I ask, giggling.

Theodore sighed at me. “Just…behave,” he says, getting to his feet, depositing Tess in my lap, and walking out.

. . .

I go upstairs about half an hour later and answer a few concerned emails for parents, to which I explain that I’m away for the week for my health and personal reasons, but I will return the following Monday. Thankful to Annette for sending over some daily reports of all the children, I make a note to send her a luxury or gourmet gift basket of some kind. I remember that she likes music, cheese, and crackers, and put a note in my planner to remember to Google decent companies.

I shut off my computer at around eleven-thirty that evening, turning off my light and lying there in the darkness. I pick up my phone, smiling at a text from Christian, reporting that everything for the following night is ready. I reply, asking him what I should wear, and he tells me whatever I want is fine. Wondering what it could possibly be, I text him goodnight and fall asleep.

I awake the following morning around ten and get up out of bed, wrapping myself in my bathrobe and slippers and heading downstairs. Theodore had texted me that he and Kate were going for a run and then breakfast, so I don’t expect them back for a while. Mom had a wedding in Woodinville that day, so she’d left to finish the final preparations. I find Dad in his office just finishing a phone call when I step in.

“I’m glad that you’re following through on your medication, Mrs. Jacobson,” my father says to Colleen Jacobson, a kindly elderly woman in the neighborhood. “Yes, have your caretaker fill it if it’s going well, without the negative side effects. All right, I’ll see you next week for your in-home appointment. Oh, now, Mrs. Jacobson, you don’t have to give me anything out of the ordinary. A glass of water or a cup of coffee will suffice just fine. Yes, I love your shortbread cookies, but I won’t insist on them. Or your cherry pie, Mrs. Jacobson. I come to see you because it’s my job. Of course I enjoy our conversations. All right, I suppose the shortbread cookies, but only if you insist on it. All right, see you next Thursday. Goodbye.” He looks up at me and smiles as he hangs up the phone. “Hey, kitten.”

“Hey, Dad,” I say, kissing his forehead and perching on the edge of his desk. “I’m going out with Christian again tonight.”

He smiles, and I could see then that he approved. “He seems like a wonderful young man—a nice breath of fresh air, just what you need.”

“He is. He’s excited for the informal family meeting on Sunday.”

He nods at that. “And we’re just going to that because his mother and sister admire your mother, not because you’re fully prepared for the whole family units to converge on one another?” he asks.

I nod; he doesn’t need to know the rest of it—he was my dad, after all. “Of course. Tonight is only our fourth date.”

“You think it’ll turn into anything?”

I shrug. “Who can say?”

“Are you falling in love with him?” he asks.

I chuckle slightly. “Dad…”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to overstep,” he says, getting to his feet and walking towards me with a smile, resting his hands briefly on my shoulders. “I just find myself remembering when you were a little girl. It all seems like it was all just yesterday…”

I smile up at him. “I understand.”

“Good.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I’m heading up to Shoreline to see Charlotte Beeker and then to Everett to see Kyle Townsend. I guess I’ll see you when I come back, unless another patient calls.”

I nod. “Sounds good,” I reply. “Annette is coming by around three to drop off some reading tests from the kids. Then I have to get ready to go out with Christian, so I’ll be here until around six-thirty.”

My father smiles, kissing me on the forehead again before putting his bag together. I follow him to the kitchen where he goes into the fridge to retrieve the sandwich that my mother made for him, which he puts into a paper bag. He fills his thermos with iced tea and puts a cookie in there as well, and rolls his eyes in a sarcastic manner when I put celery sticks and a bit of peanut butter inside there as well. He blows me a kiss as he heads to the garage to take off to go to work.

I go upstairs to jump in the shower. I allow the hot water to cover me completely, savoring the pressure on my neck, shoulders, and back. I check the time after I get out, and my clock announces it as eleven-thirty. I put on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt with the heartthrob Robert Downey, Jr. on it, not caring about his conservative face on my front. I get onto my laptop and answer a few more emails, and giggle at the text from Christian that morning, which informs me to be ready at six-thirty sharp.

I ask him if I should wear something naughty under my outfit that evening to deliberately torment him, to which he replies that, if I misbehave, he will take me in the back of his car. I tell him that I understand and will make sure that my outfit is strictly PG-13 for the evening and not NC-17. He thanks me, although I know that he’d wish I could be R-rated.

I shut my eyes and find that I am dozing, and it’s not until two-thirty that there’s a powerful knock on my door. Opening my eyes and straightening, I tell whoever it is that they can come in. Looking up, I see Theodore, who in turn looks around my room, almost as if he’s wondering if I’m keeping Christian hidden.

“He’s not here,” I reply, getting off the bed and stretching. “Back from your date with Kate already?”

“It’s been almost five hours,” Theodore replies, slightly evasive when it comes down to things like that. “Anyhow, Annette’s downstairs waiting for you.”

“You met Annette?” I ask, dashing to the bathroom and hastily brushing my teeth. “She’s cool, right?”

“Yeah, she’s a real sweetheart if I’ve ever seen one,” my brother replies, rolling my eyes as I hastily pull my brush through my hair. “She said something about an appointment in like an hour, so…”

“Okay, calm down. I’m coming.” I switch off the light in my bathroom and gently push Theodore from my bedroom in the direction of his room. I pull my own door shut and walk along the hallway and down the stairs, towards the living room where I see Annette with Tess in her lap. “Hey,” I say, smiling as she gently puts Tess aside, gets to her feet and hugs me.

“My girlfriend loves cats,” Annette says brightly.

“Your girlfriend...? Oh!” I say, smiling at her as I pull back. “I see.”

She looks slightly unsure. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

Immediately, I shake my head at her question with a smile. “Of course not, Annette! Not a problem whatsoever.”

“Well, you will not believe how worried I’ve been,” she says, sitting back down on the couch and making sure I’m comfortable as I sit down beside her. “That night, I was just minding my own business when Dean Channing suddenly called and said that I was taking your place for a week…”

I smile and take one of her ebony hands in comfort, the alabaster contrast of my hands looking incredible next to her dark ones. “I’m sorry, Annette, really. I know I probably should have spoken to you directly, but Dean Channing said he’d handle everything for your teaching the class.”

She sighs. “I know. I understand, Ana, really. What I don’t understand is the explanation given for your absence. I mean—health reasons? Please. I’ve seen you come to school more than once with a cold, not to mention the flu. Plus, you only went to the hospital afterwards because you didn’t want to infect the kids. You never get sick, girl, even I know that,” she says, shaking her head. “Please, Ana, as your friend—we are friends, aren’t we?—I think I have a right to know what’s really going on here.”

I sigh. “I was sexually assaulted, Annette,” I reply.

One of Annette’s hands flies to her mouth in shock, her eyes instantly filling with sympathy for me. “What?!” she cries.

I nod. “It was last Friday, after work,” I say softly. “I left early so that you could do the last lesson, going to Barnes & Noble at the mall to pick up something for Theodore’s welcome party,” I said quietly.

“You were so excited about that...”

I nodded. “I know. I was,” I reply. “Then I went back to the condo I share with Kate, where I showered and changed, and then Kate and I went to her brother’s restaurant, The Electric Violin, for dinner. We met Theodore there, and Ethan, and Kate’s older sister, Gia, and her fiancé, Scott... You know how I’ve mentioned that Ethan tended to put himself closer to me?”

Annette nods at that, recalling everything. “Yeah. I remember you told me about the Christmas party when you were eighteen and he tried to kiss you under the mistletoe. And then when you were twenty-one on New Year’s he kissed you at midnight, before he began to drunkenly feel you up...”

“He was drunk _both_ times,” I add quietly, for clarification purposes. “Anyhow, Kate and Theodore went home together, which was a problem because Kate had driven us to the celebration,” I tell her quietly. “I was annoyed because Ethan had kissed me again on the dance floor, and I went to the back to get a drink of water before finding Kate—who I thought was still there—and asking her if we could go home. However, Ethan followed me back there, and…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Annette replies, not unkindly, but for my sake of comfort in the situation.

I sigh. “No, that’s okay, really.” I take another deep breath then, not wanting to alarm her, but also wanting to calm myself. “Ethan then proceeded to promptly slam me up against the wall and then he…fondled me…and kissed me… and then he covered my mouth so I wouldn’t scream and then he… assaulted me,” I say softly, indicating with a hovering hand what had been done to me.

“You proved it, right?” she asks, her voice firm, knowing that sufficient evidence was due in this situation.

I sighed. “Well, I went to the doctor the next day and she examined me. She’s been my doctor for about five years now so it wasn’t a big deal. She found that my tissue was torn away and…”

“What?”

I shiver outwardly at her question; I’d never had to discuss this so openly before, but I knew I would have to do so later, so… “One of Ethan’s fingernails was found inside me. Kate grudgingly gave a DNA sample the other day, so we’ll find out maybe today or tomorrow if there’s a common factor…”

Annette sighs. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

“So, the literature tests went well, I think,” Annette says, pulling out a stack of papers from her purse and handing them over to me. “The kids seemed confident about the whole thing, and, from my brief skimming of all the answers, more than seventy-five percent of the class will pass.”

“Wonderful,” I say, clapping my hands. I skim over the grades and responses given by the students and, satisfied, hand them back to her.

“And,” Annette says, reaching into her bag and drawing out a massive piece of butcher paper with wonderful things—sparkles, sequins, googly eyes, feathers, stickers, pipe cleaners, tissue paper, and many other childhood art supplies used in a classroom—stared back at me. In the children’s definition of the middle, the drawing said, “Come back and get well soon, Miss Steele” all done up in neon-colored paint, so that it looked like a big show marquee on Broadway. It brought tears to my eyes and I shook my head, hardly believing that this beautiful thing was for me.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper.

“Just as you always tell the kids to say,” Annette replies. “Just say thank you, and I’ll tell them for you.”

I smile. “Please, tell them for me,” I reply, taking the drawing carefully from her and setting it down on the coffee table to admire it. “Please, thank them all for me.”

. . .

I said goodbye to Annette and found a text from my father, saying he’d gone to Woodinville with Mom to check out some wineries for an upcoming event she had to take care of—another wedding. I told him that I had some paperwork to do, and asked if I could use his office. He replied that he didn’t mind, so I took my laptop and hooked it up to the plug-in station and spread out my copies of the literature papers in front of me, as well as a copy of _Charlotte’s Web_ to adhere to for notes at any time.

My phone also charged beside me, and would buzz periodically with a note or two from none other than Christian, who informed me that he was getting restless for the evening ahead, and I knew precisely what he wanted, but we’d agreed to wait. I told him to have patience, and that Sunday would come eventually. I worked for another hour and forty-five minutes on my grading, and even managed to go through almost all the papers, with another dozen or so to go. At five-forty-five, I forced myself to stop my progress so as I could ready myself for that evening.

I washed my hair this time in the shower, and did a quick once over on my body, just to make sure I was clean enough for the evening ahead. I was ever thankful that the bruises were almost all completely yellow now, and crossed my fingers that they would be obliterated by Sunday. Something told me that Christian probably wouldn’t be able to make love to me if they remained.

I blow dried my hair and put my curlers in it so by the time twenty minutes were up, it would be in dazzling, thick loops around my face, past my shoulders, and down my back. I stepped back into my bedroom and opened up my wardrobe, surveying the various pieces of clothing I could wear that night. I chose a black dress, knee-length, with an oval bodice with long, bell-shaped sleeves that came down to my wrists. I did the horrible process of putting on black pantyhose and some suitable black heels, and then wriggled into the dress as Theodore tapped on my door.

“Come in,” I said, and he opened the door.

“You look pretty,” he replied.

I laughed. “I have hair curlers in my hair,” I replied with a smirk, turning around. “Could you zip me up, please?”

“No problem,” he replies, stepping forward and zipping up the back of my dress and turning me around. “You and Christian, you’re not...?”

I shake my head. “Not tonight.”

He nods. “Okay…”

I check my clock which says it’s almost six-fifteen, and bit my lip in anticipation. “Oh… I don’t have much longer…”

“When is he coming to get you?”

“Fifteen minutes, if he’s on time,” I reply.

“Do you and Christian have plans to…?”

I smirked at him, allowing a giggle to escape my lips. “I don’t know if you really want to be privy to that information,” I reply coyly, returning to the bathroom and removing my hair curlers. My hair falls in perfect, thick curls down my back, and I smile to myself. I brush my teeth again and then go into a top drawer in the bathroom sinks’ counter before grabbing my makeup bag. Lipstick, blush, mascara, eye shadow… I apply all of them in stages so as not to mess up the rhythm.

“It’s really going to happen on Sunday, isn’t it?” he asks.

I raise my eyebrows. “How did you know?”

Theodore points to the side of his forehead with his right index finger and then points it out into the world. “I heard you,” he replies, lowering his right hand, yet another thing that doesn’t make us completely identical.

I roll my eyes, puckering my lips in the mirror. I step out of the bathroom, switching off the light and walking back towards my bed. I check out my shoes again, and decide to keep them on, and look at my phone. It is almost six-thirty, and I know that Christian will be here any moment. I unplug my cell phone and slip it into one of my small, black, evening purses. I turn to Theodore, who playfully rolls his eyes back at me and offers me a black wrap before taking my arm as I switch off the light. He walks me down the stairs and raises his eyebrows as the doorbell rings.

He gently lowers my arm before going to open it, so when Christian steps in, I am hesitating by the base of the stairs. He shakes Christian’s hand and claps him on the shoulder, to which Christian does the same. Christian turns to look at me, his eyes widening before he steps forward and kisses my cheek. Taking my arm, he turns to Theodore.

“I solemnly swear not to have her back too late.”

“See that you don’t,” Theodore replies, shutting the door behind us.

“Tomorrow, I don’t have to go into the office,” Christian tells me. “That way, we’ll have more time. Tonight will be a low-key affair, while tomorrow will be the night that I strive to impress you.”

I smile at him. “You’ve already impressed me,” I reply as he lets me into his car. I buckle myself in and wait for him to go around and let himself in. I am surprised when he doesn’t drive south, towards Downtown, and instead goes north, where we find ourselves on Aurora Avenue briefly, before going towards the 5 freeway.

We chat about my meeting with Annette that day, and I tell him about the pretty piece of art that the class made for me. He is amused and then tells me that he and Elena got in touch with the footage company, but unfortunately the servers were wiped clean. He then tells me that the DNA analysis came in, and hands over an official manila envelope to me.

Even though I know what the results will be, I quickly rip it open. My eyes go over the pages, when suddenly I stop. It reads that, while Kate’s and Ethan’s DNA is undoubtedly similar, that there were only a few similar cells within it. I drop the analysis on my lap, shaking my head in utter shock and disbelief at the findings.

Seeing my distress, Christian pulls off from Banner Way and speeds ahead, pulling over and parking. He takes the paperwork from me and reads it as thoroughly as I did, shaking his head. “I’ve seen this before,” he tells me.

“What does it mean?” I ask.

“Looks to me that Kate and Ethan were only half-siblings,” he replies, shaking his head at the information provided. He digs deeper, reading over some official notes from the physician, and nods to himself. “Ethan, according to this, was Gwendolyn’s son, but he was not John’s son. Says here that they bear similar maternal signs of DNA but paternal is completely different.”

“John remarried after he and Gwendolyn got divorced,” I reply. “John married a woman called Catherine and they moved to Colorado, after he finished his work for that French company he’d been working for, before Kate came to live with us... Last I heard, they had triplet daughters, Elizabeth, Mary, and Anne…”

“Didn’t you tell me that Gwendolyn got remarried?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes, she did. She’s since passed away, of course, but she lived in Virginia. Her two sons, Benjamin and Edward, still live there…”

Christian grins at me, remaining silent for a moment, almost as if he is attempting to grasp at his thoughts. “Eureka!” he cries, throwing the analysis papers up in the air in a moment of joy. “Do you know what this means?!”

I nodded then, hardly believing it, had I not seen such a thing for myself. “Of course I get it, Christian, of course! It means that biologically John doesn’t have the proper chromosomes to make boy children! He’s had five girls, and not one sign of a boy!”

“Too bad we can’t show this on _Maury_,” Christian says, chuckling as he shakes his head. “The man hates it when the husband or boyfriend or whatever admits to being unable to making boy children…”

I laugh at the reference and shake my head. “I don’t think Ethan knows,” I tell him. “John always acted like Ethan was his child. I don’t think Ethan would continue to act so happy around him, and call him ‘Dad’…”

“What year was Ethan born?” Christian asks.

I blink, trying to remember. “1988,” I reply.

Christian shakes his head at me then before pulling out a second manila envelope from his glove compartment and hands it to me. “I had one of my guys investigate Ethan,” he replies as I open it. “Not only has he stolen money from his own company, but he’s actually born in 1986.”

I shake my head at him then. “But that’s...impossible. That’s the year before Gwendolyn and John were married,” I say. “They always said they were so happy with their little family; they had monograms all up around the house. Ethan first in 1988. Then Gia in 1989, and then Kate in 1991. I don’t…”

“It seems as though Ethan was the product of an affair,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t allowed the information, because, as my guy told me, it was a man in a high position of power, and the information, if ever revealed to the public eye, could be catastrophic.”

“Well, respecting people’s privacy is important,” I reply. Suddenly, it hits me, and I myself throw the papers in front of me in the air. “Eureka!” I cry out, turning to Christian. “Ethan knew! He knew the whole time!”

Christian looks shocked. “How do you figure?” he asks.

I grin at him. “Think about what happened with Tabby.”

Christian considers it. “You don’t think that Gwendolyn…?”

“Was raped? I’d bet on it,” I replied, nodding. “Gwendolyn was a strict Catholic, and firmly instilled in her children not to have sex before marriage. She would never have had sex with anyone, even if she was in love with them, before getting married.”

“But the divorce,” Christian said, confused.

I nodded. “John filed,” I said. “John filed after he started an affair with his secretary, Catherine, who went with him to France. He and Catherine moved away, to France before ultimately settling in Chicago, Gwendolyn was devastated, left alone, and given custody of the kids. Ethan was a senior, Gia a sophomore, and Kate, Theodore, and I were in the eighth grade when it all went down. After Ethan graduated, she met Allister Harbrook, a physician from Virginia, who was here for a conference that my father was giving down at the hospital. Dad encouraged Gwendolyn to go there with my mother, and that’s where she met Allister, who was giving a speech about the new polyclinic he was in charge of.”

“And what happened then?” Christian asked.

“They all went out on a double date,” I replied. “Allister was considering moving here for a time, and lived here for three and a half years, while he was made a temporary partner at the hospital as an ambassador of sorts. By the time he had to get back to Virginia, he’d asked Gwendolyn to marry him. She said yes, and had abandoned her Catholic faith by that point, because Benjamin was two at that time. They moved, and soon after, Gwendolyn had Edward. Ethan was in college by then, and got on pretty well with Allister, but Gia and Kate loved him—they even said they loved him more than their biological father, and even called him ‘Dad’.”

“So Gwendolyn just up and left Gia and Kate here?”

“Well, Gia had already graduated, too, and was in college. You can’t force a nineteen-year-old to move across the country if they don’t want to. And she’d already met Scott by that point…”

“And Kate? How old were you two then?”

“We were seventeen, and about to graduate,” I replied. “My parents were fine with Kate staying with us. Kate went on to college, majoring in journalism and literature and then graduated. She then got the job at _The Seattle Sazerac_ and quickly got the condo, because her mother left her some money after passing away. She was also attempting to give my parents a form of restitution for caring for her for nearly four years, but they refused to take any money.”

“So Kate stayed here?”

I nod, remembering her face and the day when she had made her choice to remain in Seattle with us all. “Yes. Part of her regrets it, because after Edward was born, she wanted to be with the babies. But, when she planned to fly out there for Christmas as a surprise, Allister refused to let her come.”

“Why?” asked Christian.

“Because Gwendolyn had cancer, and it was so bad, that he didn’t want to share her with anyone but the boys. Her strength was failing, and he didn’t want any interruptions from Kate, or Gia, or Ethan.”

“So that’s why Kate reacted so strongly when you admitted that Ethan had assaulted you,” Christian said softly.

I turn, surprised, to face him. I had no idea what he was talking about, and I found that it scared me. “What?”

Christian hesitated for a moment. “Ethan was the last male influence she had in her life, right? I mean, John had effectively abandoned her, and Allister prevented her from saying goodbye to her mother. And what about their grandparents?”

“John’s parents only made time for the triplets,” I explained. “And Gwendolyn’s parents were ashamed of Ethan…now I know why.”

“And Gia and Kate?”

I sigh. “They believed girls were unnecessary…”

Christian nods. “Everyone except Ethan had virtually deserted her—every _male _influence in her life. She saw Ethan as a last chance for familial love from a man, and that was probably the most devastating thing, knowing that her best friend was probably going to successfully get her last male link in her family taken from her.”

“Oh, my god, you’re right,” I say, shaking my head at my stupidity. “God, and I was so rude to her. I essentially told her to stay the hell out of my life. Man…I really need to apologize to her as soon as possible…”

Christian takes my hand. “Do you want to apologize right now? We could head down to the condo…”

I shake my head at him. “I’ll text her for now. She’s in a meeting now, and she knows I’m with you. She’d never forgive me for blowing you off.”

Christian leans in and kisses my forehead. “All right.” He turns the key and flips a U-turn and heads back down the street and towards the freeway. We manage to slip ahead of a line of all the backed-up cars and easily slip into the carpool lane. We drive past the Northgate Mall, and soon pass a sign which states we are entering the small city directly north of Seattle, called Shoreline.

I say nothing as we pass by signs advertising exits for Lynnwood and Edmonds, and raise my eyes in surprise when we get off at Edmonds. We then turn east and keep going, eventually ending up in Mountlake Terrace. I remain silent as we drive into a parking lot, arriving at a place called Cinebarre, a twenty-one and over dinner movie theater. Christian gets out of the car and goes around to open up my door, taking my arm and leading me up to the ticket booth. We flash our I.D.’s and Christian asks for two tickets to the romantic comedy showing that night, and we head inside.

I notice that things look pretty deserted, with the exception of employees, and I wonder why that is. Immediately I think that we are late to a show, or that they’re closed for some reason, but Christian seems to know a distinguished looking gentleman dressed in a suit coming our way. He introduces him to me as Travis Woods and Travis states that everything is ready for us.

We are led into the theater and told to sit, and soon the lights dim and a set of previews begin. I accept my drink of sparkling cider and watch as Christian takes a glass of champagne as the previews seem to fly by. The movie begins and hors d'oeuvres are served—mozzarella sticks and calamari. A Caesar salad for me arrives a few minutes later and a wedge with bleu cheese and bacon comes for Christian as well. I find comfort in all of this and soon the main courses arrive—a steak for Christian and chicken parmesan for me.

The film, the 2011 Best Picture Winner, _The Artist_, is a silent film, all done up in lush black and white photography, about an attractive man who is the darling of silent screen Hollywood. However, talking pictures slowly become the norm, and a vivacious young woman slowly becomes Hollywood’s queen. The pair later become friends and, even later in the movie, fall in love after the man’s wife orders him to leave. It ends happily and, though I’ve seen it, my eyes are awash with tears at the end, and I clap, getting to my feet as the impressive curtains close.

“You like black and white films?” Christian asks.

“Oh, yes,” I reply. “After Christmas shopping with Dad, Theo and I would come home to find Mom having baked chocolate chip cookies. Then we’d all crowd into the living room to watch _It’s a Wonderful Life_ on Christmas Eve.”

He raises his eyebrows at that. “Your dad would Christmas shop on Christmas Eve?” Christian wants to know.

I laugh. “Sometimes. It was before Amazon was very popular.”

“I thought families would have people to do the shopping…”

I shrug. “My parents loved doing the shopping, for all of us, and I suppose I inherited that love from them,” I say quietly.

Christian stands up and puts his arms around my waist, holding me to him, and I gasp ever so slightly at his closeness to me. “I think I understand why you’ve got so many people around you who love you.”

I peek up at him. “Really?” I ask.

He nods. “Yes. I’m beginning to experience first-hand what they’re feeling for you, Anastasia Steele.”

I blush and lower my eyes. “I’m glad I’m not the only one,” I say back.

He reaches out and gently pulls my chin up. “You’re not the only one,” he replies, leaning down to kiss me.


	10. Nothing Lasts Forever

Christian hurries me home that night so that I’m extra rested for the following day, which he promises to be wonderful. He drops me off, walking me to my front door again, and kisses me goodnight. I am swept up in excitement that I begin singing to myself as I step over the threshold and into the house. I stop short at the living room, seeing the light on, and wonder if Mom, Dad, or Theodore are in there. Stepping closer, I see, to my horror, who is really in there, and I try to play it cool. Knowing that I should not scream, I mentally cross my fingers like I did when I was a child when I had to walk past or through a dark hallway on my own…or something comparative along those lines.

“Ethan,” I say, immediately plastering a smile upon my face which I know is worthy of an Academy Award. “What’s going on?” I ask, my hands, unseen behind my back, pressing the hidden security camera button just behind the table which our landline sits on.

He is sitting on the couch, holding Tess in his lap, totally unaware. “Were you out with Christian tonight?” he asks calmly.

I let out a little giggle. “Ethan, you know that stalking is a felony in the state of Washington, and carries a time of up to a year in prison,” I say, hoping that his darkness somehow manage to lighten up at my jokes. “Not to mention the fact that you’ve broken into my house, which carries up to a twenty-year prison sentence if you’ve brought a weapon and intend to rob the place…”

He slowly raises his eyes to mine. “You’ve certainly done your homework on the various laws of crimes, Ana. Did your lawyer boyfriend teach you that? Or has he had the opportunity to teach you to be a proper woman?”

I sighed then, revulsion fluttering through me then. “Ethan, if I decide to date anyone, it’s really none of your business,” I say, forcing my knees not to shake. “And besides, ‘proper women’ have not been legal since 1984, thank goodness.”

He smiles then, staring openly at me. “When you want to, Ana, you can tell wonderful jokes... But I am not in a joking mood, and neither are you. I just want to know one thing and one thing only,” he tells me, his voice deathly calm. ‘Has Christian taken what is mine yet, or are you going to quit seeing him?”

I do my best to keep my tone civil, even with someone as sick as him. “I am _not_ yours, Ethan; I never have been, and I never will be. Now, I suggest you get up, put Tess down, and get out. Please, Nate, it would be better if you would just leave.”

Ethan chuckles a bit at that gently sets Tess aside, but it is the only gentle thing he does as his eyes—full of rage—suddenly flash to mine. He gets to his feet, slamming me against the wall, just as he did last Friday night. “I don’t want you to ever tell me what is and what isn’t my business, you ungrateful slut!” he growls in my face, and I smell the alcohol on his breath. “This is totally and completely my business, Ana, and it will be forever, because that’s how long you’ll be mine.”

“Ethan, please, you’re hurting me,” I say softly, attempting to brace myself against his shoulders to get away from his painful grip upon me. “You’re drunk. Go home and let me go, please!” I beg him. 

“This is _mine_,” he growls, clapping his hand there, down between my legs, and I feel a shiver of pure revulsion down my spine. “It has been mine forever, and it will always be mine, do you understand me?!” he says through clenched teeth, pressing his face against mine to intimidate me.

“No, no I do not understand. I don’t understand because it’s not true—none of this fantasy world of yours is true, Ethan,” I say, tears pricking my eyes, beginning to hope that the footage that is picking up of Ethan assaulting me is truly being fed into the police station. “I’m sorry if you have feelings for me, Ethan, you don’t know how sorry I am. But you know, you _know_ that I’ve never encouraged them, you’ve got to know that...”

“But you’ve never _dis_couraged them,” he said hotly.

“My knee to your groin wasn’t discouragement enough?” I say, attempting and failing to get out of his grip. I want so much to have the strength to shove him off me, away from me, and to push him to the floor and stick my heel in his eye, but I know full well that I could never do a thing like that.

“_That_, my dear, is cause for me to take you to court,” he says smartly, his grip upon me intensifying further still. “All I need to do is to say that you were drunk, led me on, and that you assaulted me for trying to help you.”

“I don’t need, or want, your help. I never did,” I reply hotly, knowing full well that I must keep him talking, for the sake of the feed to the police station. No matter how much his touch revolted me, I must not go silent. We will need this footage, this evidence, just as I will need the bruises he will inevitably inflict upon me. “Tell me, why do you think I kneed you in the groin, Ethan?”

“Because you didn’t like what I was doing,” he replied.

“That’s not an answer,” I say swiftly, knowing that I wield the power now. “I want you to say it—all of it. Say the words, Ethan. Form the complete sentence, dammit. Tell me what you did—tell me what you did to me!”

“It’s not like I raped you,” he replied, putting his own knee between my legs. “I know you wanted it then, Anastasia. I know you want it now.”

“That’s not what we’re talking about,” I spit at him. “We’re talking about what you did to me last Friday night, at your restaurant. Tell me, Ethan, what was that? What did you do to me last Friday night? It may not have been rape, but you sure as hell did something to me. Say the words…” I knew I could do it. If I could just get him to admit what he did on camera, then perhaps I wouldn’t have to do the sting with Tabby next week.

“I put my finger inside you as far as it would go, and you liked it,” he said, and proceeded to laugh uproariously, then leaning down, almost as if he was going to kiss me. “Now you just say the words, Ana,” he tells me, gripping me so tightly that I fear my arms will break beneath the pressure. “Tell me you liked it. Tell me you wanted it. Tell me that you wanted another one of my appendages inside you.”

“I _won’t_,” I said firmly. “I said it then and I’ll say it now: I didn’t want anything of yours inside me. You _hurt_ me, Ethan. You assaulted me.”

“You bet I did,” he replied. “It turned me on. And you _liked _it.”

“Oh, I’ll bet it turned you on,” I hiss at him. “I’ll bet sexual assault has turned you on more than once, hasn’t it?”

He grips my arms more tightly. “Who have you been talking to?”

“No one,” I say quickly, convincingly, knowing that I had to back pedal, and fast. I had done it; I had actually done it. Not only had he assaulted me—physically, this time—one again on camera, but he admitted to doing it sexually, and liking it. “I’m just so sorry, so very sorry, that you like dominating people,” I said softly.

He leans closer. “You don’t know the half of it,” he whispers, his wet lips at my ear. “I’ll tell you everything that I like. You’ll have to be fully equipped with this knowledge, Ana. I want you to know every little detail—you’ll have to, because you’re mine.”

“What makes you say so?”

“Because I marked you,” he growls, pulling down my dress so that he gets a good look at his bite mark on one of my breasts. Leaning down, he takes my other breast into his mouth and does the same.

I scream, trying and failing to push him away from me. “You psycho bastard!” I yell, trying to get him off me. “Get off of me, you sick fuck!”

“You _want _it, I know you do,” he whispers against my breasts. He grabs me and shoves me against the opposite wall. “You want me more than life itself! But I’ll be good to you, Ana—I won’t make you beg for it. Yet.” He pulls up the skirt of my dress then, ripping holes in my silk-like pantyhose and slowly proceeds to unzip his jeans, shoving me further into the wall as I attempt to get away from him.

“Ethan stop—”

“I know what will make you really scream with ecstasy, Anastasia Steele,” he whispers into my ear. “I want you to say the words. Tell me you want me,” he says, guiding himself closer and closer to my crotch. “Tell me you want this—scream my name! Tell me what you want done to you!” he growls at me once more, sending shivers down my spine, when suddenly the front door sounded like it was just kicked in.

In the confusion, I sprang away from Ethan, who was immediately surrounded by police and was handcuffed, swearing various expletives at the men in uniform, and dragged away. I couldn’t believe how cool I’d remained under pressure, only breaking towards the end, but I couldn’t handle much more. Shaking, I sat down on the couch, and Chief Eric put a hand on my shoulder.

“Think you’ll be all right?” he asked.

I nodded at him. “Yes,” I replied, my voice shaking as I reaching back with my hand to touch the back of my neck. “Will you be needing the tape?” I asked.

“It feeds in to the station, and was saved on the hard drive,” he replied. “I’ll be able to access it from there.”

I nodded a second time. “All right.”

“We’ll interrogate Ethan tonight and review the tape. Me and a couple of guys will be at the get-together on Sunday, so we can get a formal statement from you then. Until then, can you give me an informal statement now?”

I sighed, not wanting to. “Honestly, chief, I think everything you need will be on the tape. I’m not in an emotional state to talk right now.”

He nods. “I understand you completely, Ana, I do.” He turns then and motions for a woman to step forward towards me. “This is Detective Diana Matthews. She needs to have a word with you.”

“Yes, of course,” I reply as he leaves the room. “Hello, Detective Matthews,” I say, putting out my hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Not under these circumstances, of course,” she replies with a kind smile. “Ana, we’ve brought Dr. Williams along with us, and she’s brilliant. She will need to examine you briefly, if that’s all right.”

I feel my eyes widen. “Why?” I ask.

“She needs to check for fluids, stuff like that,” Detective Matthews explains in a patient voice. “It’ll better help your case.”

I sigh. “All right.” I peer around Detective Matthews and see a kind-looking woman who has wide blue eyes and long, brown hair.

“Hello, Ana, I’m Dr. Leila Williams,” she says politely. “Would you mind lying back on the couch, please?”

I sigh and nod, doing as she says as Chief Eric hollers for the rest of the officers to clear the room. Dr. Williams removes the remains of my pantyhose with her gloved hands, which Detective Matthews takes and puts in a clear evidence bag. Dr. Williams then removes my underwear, which are also taken into evidence, and swabs me briefly before handing over the last of it to Detective Matthews.

“Finished,” Dr. Williams proclaims with a smile. “Thank you, Ana. That must not have been easy for you.” She hesitates for a moment before saying, “You may want to wrap yourself in that afghan now. I’ll be needing your dress...”

Sighing, I get to my feet and take it off, handing over the bra, too. “Can you just burn them or something?” I ask them.

“You don’t want them back?” Detective Matthews asks me.

I shake my head at her, the very thought of keeping and wearing that piece of fabric revolting me to no end. “Keep them,” I say.

The doctor smiles sympathetically, briefly patting my leg and goes out into the hallway with Detective Matthews. I hear whispers of something seemingly urgent and the words ‘fluids on legs’ before another set of footsteps come charging into the room.

I looked up then, seeing Christian standing across the room from me. I cover myself before my face with my hands, and he immediately comes to sit beside me and takes me in his arms. He just holds me, letting me cry. After I’ve subsided, he doesn’t ask me to tell him everything, and he picks me up in his arms. He takes me up the stairs and down the hall to my bedroom, where he turns on the light and sits me down on my bed. Carefully and gently, he undresses me and gets me into a pair of shorts and a tank top before tucking me into bed. He tells me that tomorrow doesn’t need to happen, that we can stay behind and order a pizza or something.

“No,” I say, speaking for the first time. “No, I don’t want to be here tomorrow, I want to go out with you. Please, take me out. I need to get out of my head tomorrow.”

He sighs at that, a pained expression greeting his face. “Ana, please. Ethan just assaulted you again,” he says, clenching his fists upon my comforter. “I really don’t think going somewhere tomorrow would…”

“Please,” I whisper, touching his cheek and turning it toward me. I guide his face to mine and kiss him, but he is reluctant to deepen the kiss. “I just need to get out of my head tomorrow. Please. I don’t want to stay here and order a pizza. We could go to your apartment,” I suggest, touching his leg.

“_No_,” he says firmly to me. “You’re not ready. It’s too soon after what he did to you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You would never intentionally hurt me,” I reply. I pull his face back towards mine and kiss him again. “Please, take me away from here…”

He nods like he understands. “All right. I’ll pick you up at one tomorrow.” He kisses my forehead and before he leaves, tucks me in again. Then he walks to the edge of my bedroom by the door, and, just before he turns off the light, says ever so softly, “Sweet dreams, my love,” before shutting the door and leaving.

I sleep until eleven-thirty the following morning, exhausted from my ordeal the previous evening, and wanting to use sleep to block it out. After taking a phone call from Chief Eric, I informed him to tell my parents and Kate what had happened to me the night before, and firm instructions not to talk about it unless I brought it up myself. He informs me that the DNA will be ready sometime on Monday and that it should be entered into evidence as soon as a hearing can be obtained for Ethan’s court date. I thank him as much as I can before hanging up.

I showered for close to twenty minutes—my mind going a mile a minute at the thought of seeing Christian again—and then blow dried my hair, brushing it slowly and meticulously before getting into a pair of leggings, a simple scarlet blouse, a skirt which reached my knees, and a pair of sensible sneakers. I pulled on a sweater and got my slightly bulky purse ready before Christian was due to pick me up.

I went downstairs and said goodbye to everyone before slipping out of the house and getting into Christian’s car. We threw ourselves into each other’s arms and he just held me as I cried a little longer. He then kissed my forehead and held my hand as we drove across Aurora Avenue and to the freeway. We got off at the Edmonds exit again, this time remaining there and not going east but eventually transferring onto a highway. We made our way towards the water, and soon were in line for the Edmonds/Kingston ferry.

We made the next boat and drove on, and I decided to walk around above deck with Christian. He bought me a bag of popcorn which we ate together on the top deck as we strolled, the wind of the water whistling in our ears, even stopping every so often to feed a few hungry seagulls we took pity on. I saw Kingston coming into view, having not been there for a number of years. It was as pretty as I remembered it, and soon a general yet quite informative announcement was made for people who drove on the ferry to return to their vehicles.

We got back in Christian’s car and drove off with the rest of the traffic, continuing to head north along the highway. We passed through Kingston and then into a small town known as Port Gamble, which had a speed limit of only twenty-five miles an hour. The highway, once we were back on it, went up to a speed limit of fifty, which made Christian more comfortable on the road. We came to a fairly busy intersection and then drove over the Hood Canal Bridge, the waves on one side acting up ever so slightly, while the water on the other side seemed fairly calm. We continued on the highway, passing various signs for food and lodging as we went, all the while looking at the trees and some interesting cars all around us and not much else.

We then drove off to a right turn, and I knew then that we weren’t heading to Port Angeles, Forks, or Victoria. We kept on the side road for a time, passing a sign for a city known as Port Ludlow in the meantime. Christian said that the next bit of road was a small town that was considered to be an unincorporated community known as Chimacum. I raised my eyebrows at the name, as well as the sign welcoming us to that area, carved in the shape of a cow, and painted white with rather large black spots.

We drove through the small town of Chimacum quickly, passing a gas station, what looked to be a small market, a defunct-looking car wash, two restaurants, a fire station, and what Christian told me was the elementary, middle, and high schools, all blocked together in one massive building. Continuing on, we passed an LDS church which made me ill, and then through another area which was considered to be the Port Hadlock/Irondale area. We passed a large-looking antique store, and a Mexican restaurant before going up a hill, where a small and minor an airport was revealed, and I discovered I didn’t really remember much of the drive.

Over another hill, we drove through some slightly woodsy areas with lots of trees and even saw some patches of water through them. We then came to what Christian told me was the moment we’d all been waiting for, when a deep green sign with white lettering announced that we’d formally arrived in Port Townsend. I smiled at his enthusiasm, and found that I was truly excited to be back there as well.

We drove up the final incline, and then, once we were around two roundabouts, Christian navigated us down a hill, past several little shops, restaurants, past a QFC market, past a Safeway, to where we came face to face with a traffic light. After it turned green, we drove through, around a bluff, and passed hotels and a diner, and had arrived in what was called ‘historic downtown’. I was in awe of the Victorian architecture, and just wanted to live here all over again, just as I had so long ago.

It was around three o’clock by that point, and Christian drove down one street, and then doubled back on another, for many of the streets there were only one-way ones. We parked in a lot by a rather large building, which I quickly discovered was an antique mall. Practically squealing, I allowed Christian to lead me from the car, down the sidewalk, and into the establishment. Not knowing how Christian had known about my love for antiques, I was floored when he informed me that we could spend as long as I wanted there. I found the room full of books, and quickly selected a few choice titles for my classroom, knowing that I shouldn’t return empty handed to the children. After gathering half a dozen hardbacks, I found that I was finished and should probably move on to another room. Although I knew it was the style for a certain time, I found myself turning away from the glass cases which boasted racist figurines. I heard a young woman, about two or maybe three years younger than me comment on them, but her mother—at least, I thought it was her mother—telling her to leave them alone, that she talked about them every time.

“But, Mom,” she began.

“Ella, stop,” the mother replied, her tone impatient. “Now, come on. We’ve got to get back home because Lanny should be done with work by now. I don’t want Oscar to wake up to an empty house.”

“You act like he’s a baby,” Ella groaned as she followed her mother. “He’s two years younger than me. That’s nineteen, Mom, nineteen!”

The mother made a comment that I couldn’t hear and I sighed. My parents never played favorites with me but that example of mother and daughter truly made me consider if that was an example of it. I knew that there were families like that, but I’d hoped that I’d never see it for myself.

I went down the stairs of the mall and a young woman, who seemed to work there, asked me if I wanted to buy the books. When I said I did, she kindly took them from me, telling me she’d put them up front for me. I was pleased at the service and continued to browse. I found an old-looking stethoscope that I knew Theodore would get a kick out of, and was pleased that it was marked down to thirty dollars.

I met up with Christian, looking at some old volumes of law books, and when I told him I was finished, he nodded. We went upstairs and I slid my card to the cashier before he had time to pay for me. We left the antique mall and got back into the car, and I was surprised when Christian found some street parking just down another street. There was a movie theater just there, called The Rose Theater, and we got tickets for a venue called The Starlight Room, and I was completely confused.

We walked inside and down a hallway, where we got into an elevator and Christian pressed a button. Coming out on the top floor, a black and white tiled floor greeted us, and a kindly looking, middle-aged gentleman carded me but not Christian, and we then went up to the counter. The kind woman behind it introduced herself as Morgan, and looked Christian up and down. Once Christian put an arm around me, she backed off considerably and asked if we wanted a drink, a Panini, a pizza, or something from their specials board, written in multi-colored chalk behind us.

“No drink for me,” I replied. “Just water is fine.”

Morgan nodded like I was lame and turned to Christian. “And what will you have, sir?” she asked, batting her green eyes at him and proceeding to twirl one of her thick, red curls on one of her alabaster fingers. Her perfectly manicured nail looked absolutely perfect on her finger, and I felt my mouth going dry as my nerves got the better of me.

“A scotch, please,” Christian replied, dropping his arm from my shoulders to my waist, and I felt my lips automatically form into a smile. “And my girlfriend will have your best sparkling cider, please, Morgan, if that’s agreeable.”

Morgan raised her eyebrows at the pair of us, looking from Christian to me before nodding and quickly getting our drinks ready, disappointment in her eyes. “You can fill out one of those forms for a custom-made pizza or Panini,” she said as she went into the mini fridge for the beverages. She proceeds to add ice to the large-style tumbler glasses she’s selected for us as Christian takes out a pizza form and I select a Panini one, all the while shocked by his declaration.

I fill out the form and mutely hand it over to Morgan, giving her a small smile and thanking her for my drink, which she hands me. I feel her eyes on me as Christian hands over his completed form and takes his scotch, handing over his credit card and waiting patiently for her to run it through the system. She hands the card back, as well as a picture of Clark Gable on a card stand, telling us that we will be told over the loudspeaker, in our actor name, when our order is ready.

We proceed into the theater, which is empty except for two elderly couples and one middle-aged couple, as well as that mother and daughter. I am surprised, considering that they had to get home to the people called Lanny and Oscar, and Christian and I sit near them. He sees me peeking, and I whisper to him, “I saw them in the antique store.”

“Are you tourists?”

I look round Christian and see the older of the two, Ella’s mother, staring at the pair of us. I wonder if she assumes that about everybody. “We’re from Seattle,” I reply. “So tourists to the area if not the state. I’ll bet you get quite a few of those here…”

“She’s from there,” the woman says, nodding to her daughter. “From Seattle, I mean. She lives there with her father.”

The girl called Ella smiles a little and shakes her head at her mother’s statement. “Not by choice,” she replies. “It has slowly but surely become too big a city for me. I’m afraid that I have to live there, regardless, for school, and work…”

“What do you do?” I ask.

“I’m a cashier at Big 5 in Ballard,” Ella replies.

“Do you like it?”

She smirks and chuckles at the notion of loving her job. “I could do without all the standing, and the shoes I have to wear,” she says honestly. “I’m in school to be a teacher. I love children —they’re so wonderful.”

“I’m a teacher, at the Ivy Door Academy,” I reply. “We have three fourth grade teachers, and I’m one of them.”

“That’s the old-fashioned-looking private school between Downtown and the University District, right?” Ella asks, curious.

I nod. “Yes. The red brick building, sort of in the hills a bit.”

“What grade are you interested in teaching?” Christian asks.

“Second to fourth,” Ella replied.

“I thought it was second or third,” her mother said to her. “Have you added another to your potential curriculum belt?”

“Apparently so,” Ella giggled. “My mother, Lisa.”

I reached out and shook hands with them both, finding that I love the friendly atmosphere of this small little town. “And you’re Ella,” I say, and quickly add, “I saw you two in the antique store. You mentioned going back home to see a Lanny and an Oscar so I was surprised to see you here,” I say, hoping that I’m not too invasive. 

“My husband is having some issues with one of his sons,” Lisa says, shaking her head. “And his job at the hospital has him coming and going at all hours of the day and night.”

“So is Oscar your brother?” I ask Ella.

She nods. “Younger one, thank goodness. He’s nineteen and he’s just starting school with me,” she explains.

“And what does he want to be?” Christian wants to know.

“A fireman,” Ella replies, nodding to herself. “He has to get all the EMT bull… Stuff done in winter because of some very particular and understanding deadlines they put in front of you beforehand.”

I lowered my eyes, my lips expanding into a smile as she quickly attempts to cover up her attempt at cursing in front of total strangers. “Well, I wish him luck,” I say. “Do many people come in here?”

“Well, this particular theater is twenty-one and over, and this is my third time here,” Ella replies. “In my experience, it’s never been full.”

“So…no kids?” asks Christian.

“Besides me,” Ella says, giggling again, “no.”

We continued chatting for another few minutes before Lisa gives Ella a look to leave us alone and let us continue our date. Christian takes my hand and we discuss the upcoming days ahead, and I know full well what he is hinting at. I see in his eyes that he is looking forward to Sunday, and not just for the tea party.

Our name for our food is called soon and Christian goes off to get our meal. I am formally presented with a lovely looking Panini, and I am quite pleased with its look, as well as the taste. Christian and I swap bites with one another and are mutually pleased with the other’s result as well.

The gentleman who carded me comes into the theater and I notice a few note cards in his hands. He greets all of us pleasantly enough and talks about the movie we’re about to see, as well as the other two films playing downstairs, in theaters called The Rose and The Rosebud respectively. He reminds us to silence our cell phones, take our trash and dishes outside when the film is over, and to enjoy the show, before withdrawing. There is a bit of scattered applause at his departure, and the lights go down, a projection screen lowering into our midst. It soon lights up and we are illuminated in movie magic as the previews begin.

In short, it is a lovely film. It is an old classic, _The Red Shoes_, which I saw back in middle school when Kate and I were beginning our art phase. A young ballerina gets caught up in her dance company, as well as in a relationship with the younger of the two conductors working there. Their boss, who doesn’t allow for any distractions, is angered at them—partially for breaking his rules and partially because he is in love with her himself—and fires them. A year later, he lures the ballerina, Vicky, back to the company, and her husband gives her the choice of going off with him or continuing to dance for the tyrant. She looks as if she will choose dancing, but later decides against it and goes running for her husband, but topples off a balcony in the process. She is hit by a train, and as she dies, her beloved husband takes off her dancing slippers, per her command, while we’re given a shot of her boss, watching the ballet without her, and a shot of the shoes on their own, no longer magical without a wearer.

Though I’d seen it before, I found tears escaping from my eyes at the sight of what had happened to young Vicky. I was sobbing openly by the time the screen eventually faded to black, and everyone had slipped from the theater, Ella and Lisa saying goodbye to us as they walked by. Christian put a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to him, allowing him to envelope me into his arms. I gripped the back of his shoulders, never wanting to let him go.

We left the theater, waving goodbye to Morgan and the kind man who had carded me and introduced the film, and slipped out. Christian wrapped an arm around me as we walked to the car, and let me in. We then drove down the street, turning left at the stoplight and continuing down the street and making another left turn. We went up a curved street, past an old white church before eventually going up a street called Lawrence. We parked along the street, and I noticed there was a second movie theater on that street. We then went into a restaurant that had red curtains hanging in the windows, and I find that the name of the establishment was Lanza’s.

The waiter showed us to a booth and Christian asked about certain items that weren’t on the menu. The waiter replied that, since it wasn’t very busy, that something could be arranged. Christian then ordered chicken parmesan for me, and I also ordered a cup of minestrone soup, and some apple juice to drink. I drank two full glasses of water before my juice arrived, calming down considerably when my soup came. Christian had a salad, and he held my hand as we ate, discussing what was happening the following day.

“I was just going to carpool with my parents,” I said, shrugging.

Christian smiled a devilish smile my way. “Oh, no, no, no. You’re coming to the party with me, Anastasia. I want to show you off.”

I feel my cheeks heat as I lower my eyes, a smile encroaching on my face at his resolve to keep me with him. “I see,” I replied.

“The party begins promptly at three, but I make it a point to be fashionably late,” he explains, chewing on a bite of salad as he considers. “I think we should arrive no later than four, if that’s agreeable to you.”

“I am yours to bend,” I reply.

He likes that, and I extend my leg to his inner thigh, the devilish grin returning as the waiter comes to ask us how we are enjoying our starters. We reply that they are excellent and continue eating as the waiter returns to check on some of the other couples.

“You will be perfect,” he tells me. “Ava has spoken of this lovely floral patterned dress you have. Its bodice is oval cut, apparently, and has short, flowy sleeves yet hugs your figure excellently, and goes to the knee, with its skirt flaring out nicely…”

I raise my eyebrows. “Ava is nine,” I reply, feeling my eyebrows coming together at the statement. “Something tells me those words weren’t originally spoken by him…”

Christian chuckles. “He only mentioned the pattern,” he confesses. “I actually saw you in it in the class picture.”

I giggle a bit. “Yes, I know the dress. I’ll wear it if you really want me to,” I whisper, extending my leg towards his thighs again. I also make a note to text Kate to join me at the mall so as I can pick out something absolutely scrumptious to wear beneath it. I want Christian to be as awed with me as I am with him, and I think I know how to do that.

We finish with dinner at Lanza’s, the chicken parmesan completely delicious, and go back to the car. Christian takes me back onto Water Street, the street just around the corner from The Rose Theater, where there is an ice cream shop. Stepping in, I am pleased to find that they have my favorite cone—what they call a ‘plain cone’ is really a cake cone—and ask for plain vanilla, two scoops. Christian orders the espresso chip, two scoops, in a waffle cone, and we sit in one of their booths, delighting in our sweet treat.

It is around eight-thirty when we are finished, and Christian informs me that the establishment doesn’t close its doors, formally, until ten. Looking to the left of the place, there is an old-fashioned candy store, which I promptly enter. They have assortments of stuffed animals and such; a chocolate case at the front counter; little plastic boxes of colorful candy, all lined up against another wall, parallel to the chocolate case; a little area for the candies from _Harry Potter_; and all sorts of other wondrous things. I go up to the chocolate case and ask for a nice assortment to take home to my parents, and make a separate one for Theodore and Kate to share. Then, I have a little one made for me and Christian for the drive home. I take the boxes, carefully put into a nice bag all their own, and pay the kind woman behind the counter. Christian takes my arm at the door to the place and we return to his car.

His car clock creeps closer and closer to nine, and I find I am growing tired. He places the bag of chocolates, save for the small one for us, in the back seat, reminding me not to forget them. He pops one of the chocolates meant for him into his mouth as he navigates us from town. We get back on the main stretch of highway as my eyes grow heavy, and soon I am asleep.

I awake as soon as we pull onto the ferry, content with my dozing. Christian has slipped from the car, leaving a text for me that he’s gone to the bathroom. I quickly press the phone button on my cell, and call Kate.

“Hey,” I say as soon as she’s picked up.

“Hey!” she cries, a little too excitedly. “Theo told me you went off with Christian today. Was today…?”

“No, not today,” I tell her, a hint of humor behind my firm tone as I tap my fingers upon the dashboard. “Tomorrow, at the tea party, it will be.”

“Oh, cute. You have the day picked out.”

I giggle at that and let the topic set for a moment before I come up with an idea. “I need a favor…”

“Name it,” she replies.

“I have my outfit for tomorrow, but I need something…”

“_Oh_!” Kate says, a ripple of laughter coming from her. “Don’t worry. We’ll do something tomorrow before the tea party. You’ll be perfect.”

“Thank you, although I could never be that aforementioned adjective in any given circumstance, Care,” I say quietly. “I can’t stand it… I mean, who would ever _want _to be perfect? Wouldn’t it get boring after a while?” I ask, seeing Christian coming. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say quickly as he opens the door, not wanting to share personal, best friend conversations with him, not yet. “Love you, too, Care-Care. Bye.”

“Who do you love?” he asks as I hang up the call.

“Kate,” I reply, showing him my call logs.

He nods. “I see,” he says. “Is she excited about tomorrow?”

I grin at him. “Not as excited as I am,” I say.

“Oh, really?” he asks.

I lower my eyes then. “Really,” I say quietly.

Christian reaches out then, tilting my chin up. “And what could you possibly have to be excited for, Anastasia?” he asks me.

“Everything,” I reply.

. . .

I meet Kate at the mall the following afternoon and we grab a Starbucks before I am subjected to lingerie shopping. I am red in the face for the whole of the time I am drinking my Frappuccino, wondering how far Christian and I are going to go that evening. I wonder if it will be as simple as a meet and greet, and then Christian will casually drop into the conversation that he wants to give me a tour, whereupon we will slip away and conveniently go to his childhood bedroom. I wonder if Christian will proceed to rip off my clothes, throw me down on the bed, and take me without mercy, rhyme, or reason. I wonder if it will be a slow process of body worshiping…

“Ana!” Kate says, for what must be the fourth or fifth time. “You’re biting on your straw in public,” she says, her tone full of reproach as she reaches out and pulled out my drink’s appendage from between my lips.

My cheeks heat again as I lower my eyes. “I’m nervous…”

She shrugs.

I rolled my eyes at her, not knowing what else to say. How could she possibly even attempt to remember the feelings I felt? She had done it long ago... “Why should I even bother heaping this onto you?” I demanded, my tone annoyed. “You lost it at seventeen on prom night, like the rest of senior class.”

“Mmm, fifty-percent, give or take,” Kate says, shaking her head as she attempts to mentally do the math. “But don’t tell Theo that I lost it to Joey Michaels, who I didn’t even go to prom with.”

I giggle at the thought of it. Even though she’d gone to the prom with one Andy Peterson, it was Joey Michaels who found her at the after party to tell her that Andy was making out with the prom queen, Kiki Martinez, in a hotel room, with some heavy petting involved. Knowing that her chance with Andy had gone, Kate snagged what she considered the next best thing—prom king Joey Michaels, who apparently was pretty decent. They ended up dating until our sophomore year of college, when they broke up because he moved to France to study art and painting.

“You know he’s gay now,” Kate reports to me, her tone casual as we walk towards the heart of the mall. “He sent me what he calls an autumn greeting and told me that he’s getting married in November to Henri D’Arburand, a model, who is originally from Milan, but with a name like that…” She shakes her head and giggles a little.

I raise my eyebrows. “The one who does those French shoots that look like Calvin Klein, except they’re smoking cigarettes in them?” I ask.

Kate smirks. “Yes. Apparently I ruined women for him entirely.”

“Maybe Theodore wouldn’t mind if you lost it to Joey Michaels after all,” I tell her and attempt to be nonchalant by shrugging. “Besides, you had three boyfriends after Joey—Harry Jacobs who worked at Subway, who wasn’t high-profile enough for you; Felix Norton who was that executive but didn’t make enough time for you; and then Barney Abrams who was that assistant teacher at Ivy Door that was too into kinky sex for your taste. I think you’ve found a good middle with Theodore.”

“And he’s had girlfriends, too, right?”

I nod. “Oh, yeah,” I say, laughing. “Rosie McDonald, who was a nurse at Columbia University Medical Center. She had three kids and was a little older, and Theodore wasn’t ready for all that commitment yet. Then there was Chelsea Daniels who was a sorority girl who partied way too much for him. And then there was Serenity St. Clair who was too stuffy and demanding and impolite to strangers and people of a lower class than she was, so needless to say, that didn’t work out either…”

Kate nods, thoughtful as we walk again into Torrid. She explains the day and a PG-13 version of the night to follow, and at once all the employees are all a-twitter of excitement for me. Dashing around after measuring me, they look at everything they have and find me a dressing room. They write my name on the nameplate as they did the other day and usher me in, hanging the various findings in the proper places. They shut the door behind me and wait with bated breath outside, wondering what I will decide on.

After nearly half an hour of stuffing myself into various stages of undress, I decide that I like chemises and babydolls the best out of everything they’ve brought to me. The bustiers and corsets don’t do it for me, and I decide that being cramped would make me physically uncomfortable, and that added to the emotional stress I will more than likely will feel won’t be a good mixture for the night.

I finally decide on what is called a ‘microfiber and lace trimmed chemise’ and step out of the dressing room, back in my street clothes. Despite Kate’s protests, I pay for the chemise myself and accept a bag for it as we leave the store. We walk to the parking lot together and I hug her, telling her I will see her in a couple of hours. Getting into my car and behind the wheel, I grip the steering wheel in a moment of panic.

What will I do—what _could _I do? What if I can’t do it? What if he decides I’m not what he wants in a girlfriend? What if I don’t like it? What if he hurts me? What if he turns out to be a total psycho? What if he set this whole thing up? What if he was only doing this to get back at Ethan?

I lower my head onto the wheel, beginning to shiver, the main question finally deciding to enter my mind... What if I couldn’t be what he wants?


	11. Love and Other Revelations

I went back to my parent’s house and returned a bit after one p.m. when I arrived, I said a brief hello to my parents before heading upstairs, almost tempted to stuff my bag under my shirt as I went. I dashed up the steps, tapping on Theodore’s door to tell him that I was back before going into my bedroom. I locked the door behind me like a paranoid teenage girl before placing my bag on my bed and plopping down upon it myself.

I allowed myself half an hour to forty-five minutes to cool off, check some emails or other urgent messages before taking a thorough shower. Peeking into my work email, I was a bit surprised to find a question from Annette asking if she could help with the poetry unit by bring in some of her favorite poems. I replied that it was very kind of her to offer, and that I would welcome that. I asked her if she wanted to meet half an hour before class to compare the poems and that, between us, we could come up with a wonderful selection.

I found that Dean Channing had sent me an email formally welcoming me back to school the following day. He informed me that if I needed another week off that it would be fine, that Annette was doing exceptionally well and that I could have more time to get my affairs in order. I replied that I was better now, and that I was fully prepared to return the following day. I knew that many people would be worried if their teaching assistant would take over their class, but I knew Annette better than that.

I also found an email from Christian, informing me that he would arrive at precisely three-forty-five to pick me up. Seeing that it was getting close to two already, I let out a small shriek and ran from my computer and to the bathroom. Quickly slamming the door shut behind me, I turned on the water to adjust it to the proper temperature. I stripped quickly and stepped in, savoring the warm water on my skin, the bruises of Ethan’s newest assault beginning to yellow in some places, and I hoped that it wouldn’t be a turn off to Christian. I lifted the newest breast that Ethan had bitten, and winced a little in pain, both physical and emotional, at my rather devastating predicament ahead of me, but hoped that powder would help diminish it.

I allowed myself to stand just beneath the stream of water, nibbling my lip as I wondered what Christian would want to do to me. I considered the odds and ends of sex itself, and thought of anything and everything that could possibly transpire between us. Shivering at the thought of being all-consumed by him, I found I was completely shaking under the heat of the stream of water. I made a grab for my loofah and scrubbed myself all over with my vanilla-scented body wash before massaging my scalp expertly with some frou-frou conditioner that Kate had insisted I buy.

I reached from the shower and into the cupboard where, directly next to the towels, I kept my waxing strips. I placed them on the counter and bit my lip again, knowing I would not be looking forward to what lay ahead. In the meanwhile, I shaved under my arms and my legs, all the while, allowing my subconscious to fill with a certain amount of trepidation. I was excited about tonight, I assured myself.

Once done with that, I turned off the water and stepped to the edge of the shower, making a grab for my towel and wrapping myself in its soft folds as I stepped out. Hastily drying myself on the bath mat, I got out my hair dryer from under the sink and my sometimes elusive brush from the counter. It took me a full thirty minutes to blow-dry my hair and, combined with my shower time of twenty minutes, I found that left me exactly fifteen minutes to appear presentable.

Quickly placing the uncomfortable curlers in my hair, I went out into my bedroom where Christian said that he was getting some Sunday traffic and that he’d be a bit behind, but he was on his way. I smirked at that, the notion that Christian could be anything but perfect hardly weighing on me at all. It was refreshing, I thought, I have someone as amazing as him getting involved with Sunday traffic, and it warmed me to sense even a little normalcy within his professionalism.

Dashing back into the bathroom, I shut the door again. Spacing my legs properly apart, I removed a waxing strip from the box. Removing it from its individual casing was itself annoying, and, finally, I was able to position it precisely where I needed it to work. Angling it between my legs, I pressed it firmly down onto my skin, forcing myself not to tense up as I knew the pain would come. Counting to two and a half minutes in my head, and, once that was done, I pulled it off as hard and as fast as I could.

“Fuck!” I hissed, punching the wall. “Dammit…” Looking around to make sure I hadn’t disturbed anyone, I proceeded with the next strip, and the next. All in all, I needed five or so strips to get the job done, and I was relieved to use the cooling lotion that came with the case. I exited the bathroom then, allowing the lotion to soak into my skin properly as I removed the lingerie from the bag and clipped its tags with my handy scissors.

Checking my phone again, Christian informed me that he would be along in about ten minutes. I wriggled into my lingerie and then found the dress that he’d asked me to wear in my wardrobe. This time, I was thankful that there was no back zipper, so nobody would properly see the skimpy outfit before Christian. I found a pair of black heels and then returned to the bathroom, brushing my teeth before putting on some perfectly subtle baby pink lip gloss, the right amount of blush, mascara, eye liner, and some golden eyeshadow. I returned to my bedroom and put the golden locket around my neck and checked my phone, grinning like an idiotic teenage girl when Christian said he was just around the block.

_Isn’t there some rule about texting while driving_? I wrote to him. _Do you own a series of streets now_?

_No, Anastasia, I own no streets. You’ll just have to wait and see_.

“Ooh, a surprise,” I said, grinning at the thought of it.

I never liked surprises growing up, but one from Christian would definitely be worth waiting for. I returned to the bathroom a final time to allow my hair to fall down about my face, across my shoulders, and down my back before there was a tap at my door. I turned around then, I knew I had to answer it, for even I didn’t know who it could be.

“Coming!” I cried, shutting off the bathroom light and going to open it. “Hey,” I said, nodding at the autumn suit Theodore was wearing. “Nice.”

Theodore rolled his eyes at my compliment. “Got it for a benefit dinner for the hospital in New York,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders. “Christian is here for you. He’s waiting in the living room with Mom, Dad, and Kate,” he informed me, putting out his arm to walk me down the stairs.

I pulled on a simple black wrap before grabbing my phone and putting it into my purse, shutting off the light and following him, closing the door behind the pair of us. “I promise, I won’t do anything stupid like asking you to announce me,” I whispered to him as we walked towards the stairs.

Theodore chuckled. “Hey, Christian may treat you like a princess, but that doesn’t mean I have to,” he replied as we descended the stairs. We walked through the lobby of the house and into the living room, where everyone got to their feet, and Theodore immediately left my side to stand with Kate.

Christian grinned at me, approaching me and taking my hand. “Ready?” he asked, looking as if he would eat me alive.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. I’ve given your father and Kate the address, and so they should find the house with no problem.”

I nodded, turning to my family. “I guess we’ll see you there.”

My parents, Kate, and Theodore nodded. My mother looked prepared to shoo me away good naturedly. My father looked ready to steal me from Christian’s arms. Kate looked excited for what lay ahead. And Theodore looked ready to be alone with her.

We walked out of the house and down the cobblestone path to the edge of the garden and the white picket fence. There before us was a 2016 black Bentley Mulsanne Speed Beluga Edition, and a man in a suit waiting for the two of us, it seemed. “Briggs,” Christian said, his tone almost affectionate as he nodded to the middle-aged man as we approached. “This is Anastasia Steele.”

“How do you do, Miss Steele?” Briggs replied with a smile, opening one of the back doors. “Please.”

I smiled at the hospitality. “Thank you, Briggs,” I replied, accepting his hand, much larger than my own, to get me into the car. Once I was in, he shut it behind me, and I buckled my seat belt as Christian came in the other side and sat beside me. “What’s all this?” I asked as Briggs took the front seat.

“Briggs is my driver,” Christian replied.

I raised my eyebrows. “But, your car…”

He grinned at my innocence. “Perks of being _very_ rich,” he replied, running his hand briefly over the fine, black leather material. “Briggs is my close friend of many years, assistant, right-hand man, and driver. Sometimes I don’t like to drive, especially to my parent’s house. I like to be places promptly, and Briggs knows direct routes.”

I nod, feeling secure as Christian takes my hand and tucks it in his own. We leave the Sunset Hill neighborhood and drive along the street at a reasonable pace and soon we have connected with Fifteenth Avenue once again. Rather than go Downtown via the Ballard Bridge, we cross to Aurora Avenue and eventually end up on the 5 freeway from there. We go south, and soon end up passing the University District, and very soon, are driving in the heart of Downtown Seattle, but Briggs doesn’t get off the freeway.

Continuing, we get on a bridge that leads us to the west and towards Bellevue, yet I know we aren’t going there. We stay on the impressive bridge, however, and soon get off before the Bellevue or Issaquah exits. We get up into the hills, the trees all around us incredible, so part of me wonders if woodland creatures will appear to us. We soon come upon a cobblestone road, and get into some older houses of the area, and soon we pull up at two sandstone gate posts, ornately carved, with lions poised on the top.

Briggs is buzzed in and we drive up the cobblestone road, which curves into a half circle shape as we get closer to the house. The second set of lion’s rest on white marble, almost as if they will ward off solicitors from the property. The marble stone steps curve on each side, giving the home—a red brick mansion which reminds me of the architecture of Ivy Door Academy—a welcoming feel to it, despite the carnivorous beasts stationed outside.

The door opens and five people come across the threshold as Christian helps me from the vehicle, and I know immediately who they are. Leila and Elliot quickly come out from behind the trio, Leila waving prettily at me and whispering something to the striking blonde woman in front, who, as soon as she’s nodded to Leila, comes down the steps toward us. There is no hesitation in her step, nor in her bearing, as she walks towards us, and I find myself face to face with Mrs. Grey for the first time.

“Mother,” Christian says, walking me with him towards her.

“Christian,” she says, kissing his cheek affectionately and looking up at him. “You’re looking well, dear—very well.”

“Doing my best to appear so,” he replies.

She turns to me, shining blue eyes meeting mine, a look of what seems to be pure awe upon her face. “Is this her?” she asks, looking me up and down, a glow of happiness emanating from her.

“Indeed it is,” Christian says proudly. “Mother, this is Anastasia Steele. Ana, this is Adelaide Grey, my mother.”

I do my best to smile at her. “Mrs. Grey, it is an honor and a privilege to meet you,” I reply, putting out my hand.

“Oh, you too, my dear. And call me Adelaide, please,” she replies, taking my right hand and shaking it normally before lovingly covering it with her other manicured one. She looks me up and down again, looking more than a little pleased, the term satisfaction coming readily to mind. “Aren’t you delightful? She’s delightful, Christian, really. Leila told us you’re Ava’s teacher.”

I nodded. “I am, at Ivy Door Academy,” I reply.

“Do you like it there?” she asks, locking my arm in hers and walking with me up the steps to the house. “Is it a good fit?”

“An excellent fit,” I say. “I love the children dearly.”

“Loving children is a main part of the job, or so I hear. Oh, Thomas, do say hello,” Adelaide says to her husband.

“Mr. Grey, it’s lovely to meet you,” I say to him.

“It’s Thomas, of course,” he says firmly, smiling so that his eyes twinkle. He has light brown hair mixed with silver and resembles Elliot the most, while Mia is the spitting image of her mother as a young woman. “Enchanted,” he tells me, gently kissing my cheek and then pulling me back to get a good look at me. “Christian, she’s lovely.”

“I think so,” Christian says proudly, clapping Elliot on the shoulder, and kissing Mia’s and Leila’s cheeks.

“Mia, please, say something,” Adelaide scolds lightly.

“Ciao!” Mia replies enthusiastically, grabbing me and holding me to her. “I am so eccitato that you’re here! Mamma mia, I didn’t know I’d have to wait this long to make your better acquaintance! Christian is right, you _are_ such a bella ragazza in floral patterns!”

Christian pulls a face and manages to get me back on his arm as we pass over the threshold and into the foyer. Two grand cherry wood staircases, one to the left, the other to the right, make two ends of the room. We walk below them, past the living room, family room, what appears to be a game room, and a small kitchen. Adelaide tells me that this kitchen is just for show, that the larger one is behind the double doors that we pass by. On the other side of the kitchen is the formal dining room, and beyond the game room is the exit to the pool house, where some of Mia’s parties are held.

There is a general room at the back of the house, a wide-open space which is a sitting room, and beyond that is Thomas’s study. We walk out two French doors onto a massive back garden, a stone fountain center stage. Cobblestones make up the walk-ways, and some pristine-looking bushes dot the edges of the land making up the garden. At the edge of it is a hedge maze, which Thomas seems to be very proud of; a conservatory is just to the left of the maze, its windows glinting like diamonds in the sunshine. Beyond the maze and the conservatory are the expansive grounds, and I can just make out the horse stables to the right, and I hear soft whinnies beyond.

Elena and Eric cross the garden from a press of people to greet us, and I am relieved when Elena gives me a hug. “You were very brave the other night,” she whispers into my ear, “very calm under pressure. I spoke with the DA, and he says he has enough to arrest Ethan. They’re going to do it tomorrow afternoon.”

“No sting operation?” I whisper back.

“None,” she replies, giving me one final squeeze before hugging Christian. “DA Redgrave is doing the arrest tomorrow,” she whispers to him.

Christian nods. “Good. Good man.”

“Is he?” I asked, never having heard of him.

Christian nods in affirmative. “Yes. Charles Redgrave is one of the top-five DA’s in Washington State, Ana. We’re in good hands.”

“No business at the party,” Adelaide says firmly, tutting disapprovingly as one of the family butler’s approaches with champagne. “To Anastasia, a lovely young woman for my darling boy!” she says.

I blush and sip at my drink, wondering where my family is as Elena and Eric withdraw to chat with other friends. My fears aren’t founded, for they are shown by a maid into the party just a moment later. I watch as Adelaide Grey hands her champagne glass to someone before approaching my mother, Mia trailing in her wake. I grip onto Christian’s hand, and I find he is watching them, too.

“Mrs. Steele, it is an honor to meet you,” Adelaide says, practically shaking with unexpected excitement. “I’m Adelaide Grey.”

My mother smiles, taking her offered hand. “A pleasure, Adelaide, and please, feel free to call me Carla,” she replies.

“I’m Mia,” says the youngest Grey shyly to my mother. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Steele.”

“Ah, Mia,” my mother says happily to Christian’s younger sister. “It’s wonderful to meet you, my dear. You may call me Carla as well.”

I am amused when Kate asks Mia about her studies abroad, and then it turns into a full-fledged interview about the differences of Italian culture versus American culture. Mia explains that she’s learned to make pasta alla vodka the best in her class, and that her teacher is most impressed with her. Kate takes out her notepad to jot down some quick ideas about what her next article could be, while Dad and Theodore meet Thomas and Elliot respectively, chatting up about their respective careers. Leila trails after Kate and Mia, eager to speak about a trip to Paris she took two years ago.

“Why don’t I give you a tour of the place?” Christian whispers.

It doesn’t take me a moment to feel goose bumps on my neck at the sensation of his hot breath there. “I think I would like that,” I reply.

Christian takes my arm and leads me down the stairs of the terrace and into the garden proper. We go around the side of the house and he takes me to a side door, which opens with ease. He quickly shuts it behind us, and I am awed at the cherry wood shelves around us, full of expensive bottles. Christian explains that this is the wine cellar, and then takes my hand and gently pulls me up the stairs into the house.

We go along a hallway before he takes me into another room, which I almost immediately manage to identify as the game room, due to the decent-sized pool table in the center of the room, made out of cherry wood. There was a shelf in one corner, each individual shelf filled with classic board games. A window, which gave us wonderful light and a quick look at the garden outside, illuminated a small circular table top with three chairs, one for each of the Grey children.

Through the game room, we came upon the living room with a long modern couch and a flat screen T.V. mounted on the wall. Sports paraphernalia—manly of the Mariners and the Seahawks—littered the mantle and other locations of the room. I watched as Christian made a face at all the sporting goods, and my heart leapt—I wasn’t a sports fan either.

“The formal living room is through there,” Christian said, pointing in the opposite direction as we left the sports room, going along the hallway towards the front door. We went up one of the staircases and up to the floor with the bedrooms, passing by the master wing where Thomas and Adelaide slept. “The wing above the conservatory is Mia’s,” Christian said as we walked. “The one above the pool house is Elliot’s. And my wing has a private entryway to the library,” he tells me, grinning.

“You have a library?!” I cry.

Christian chuckles. “Yes. I’ll show you later.” We walk around one corner, and down another hallway, before coming to a cherry wood door with impressive wood paneling. Christian reaches into his pocket, taking out an old brass key and unlocking the door to his childhood bedroom. “I come here some weekends to work, for the quiet atmosphere,” he tells me as we step inside.

He turns on the light, pointing to a door at the other end of the room, which he tells me is the entryway to the library. There is a walk-in closet on the opposite side, and, by his bed, an en suite bathroom. His bed is a queen-sized one, just like mine at home, and I love the fact that we won’t be cramped there. He shuts and locks the door behind us as I cross the room and look out of the window, seeing some guests of the party below.

“Don’t worry, they won’t cut the cake without us,” he tells me, and I shiver at the sensation of his breath on my neck again.

The notion of having two forms of sugar in one day nearly manages to send me over the sweet edge. “There’s cake?” I ask.

“Mainly petit fours and macaroons that Mia made,” Christian explains, putting an arm around my waist. “My mother always has the cooks make some Southern tea cakes for the occasion. They’re like cookies.”

“Can they see us from up here?” I ask.

He shakes his head, running his hands along the small of my back. “No. The light doesn’t reflect very well out there, due to the sunlight.”

I smile, turning to face him. “I’m glad.”

I look up into his eyes, and I find I’ve never felt safer in my life. I shut my eyes in comfort as he places a hand on my cheek, and I stand on my toes to kiss him. His arms come around my waist as he lifts me into his arms, carrying me to the bed, and I manage to turn off the light as we walk by. He chuckles into my mouth at that, sending delicious chills up and down my spine as he lays me back onto the bed. My head makes contact with a pillow, and I manage to kick off my heels as I attempt to wrap my legs around his waist.

Christian pulls away for a moment, removing his shirt and staring at me for a moment in the darkness. He turns on the bedside table lamp onto the low setting, and I blush, my skirt hiked up past my knees. “I want to look at you, Anastasia,” he says reassuringly, leaning down to kiss me again.

“No, you don’t...” I whisper.

Christian locks eyes with mine. “I do,” he assures me.

I wrap my arms around him then, finding that I am savoring muscles on his back, shaking in utter and complete excitement. He withdraws his arms from around me, unzipping his pants and unbuckling his belt, and even manages to remove his shoes and socks without disturbing me or interrupting our kissing. I sit up, taking the locket from around my neck and push him away.

I shoot him a smile to show him that I still want him. Carefully, I remove my dress and pull the lingerie down, smiling up at him as I sit there, wearing only that and a pair of panties. I watch as his eyes widen, mouth slightly open as he shudders in a moment of arousal. It makes me aroused that I can have that effect on him, and I reach out to him, and he reaches up and under my lingerie to remove my panties, and I let him.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against my skin, taking one of my hands in his, kissing it—my fingertips, the inside of my palm, my wrist, upwards, to my shoulder, and into my neck. I feel myself gasp as his tongue escapes from between his lips and tastes my collarbone. “I know I’m never going to tire of making love to you,” he declares, going to my other side and then slowly proceeds down my right arm, sending goosebumps and shivers through me.

I reach out and remove his boxer shorts, and there he is, naked before me. I see from a glint in his dark eyes that he wants me, and gently takes off my lingerie outfit before lying me down on the bed. He kisses down from my lips, to my neck, to my collarbone, and along the tops of my breasts before going lower, and gently takes one of my breasts into his mouth. I gasp, savoring the rippling sensation that rips through me then, never wanting it to end. He does the same to my second breast, and I find I am in ecstasy at what his mouth has the capability of doing.

I arch my back, wanting him to consume me completely, and to never release me from his wanting mouth. “Christian…” I whisper.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know, Ana.” I hear a tearing sound then, and I know he is putting on a condom. He gently takes a hold of my hips and strokes them briefly, playing with my breasts as he enters me.

I gasp aloud, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him with a kind of reckless abandon that a teenager would do during car sex. I pull him closer to me, and I feel how hard he is inside me, and I almost can’t believe that I could do something like that. I wrap my legs around his torso again, pulling him deeper and deeper inside me, and savoring the gentle bites he is giving my breasts and my lips.

I pull him back and forth and that, combined with his thrusts, results in the pair of us crying out in pleasure. He is gentle with me, at first, but I quickly find that I want it, I want _him_, harder, faster, deeper. His body responds with my own, and he doesn’t even attempt to let up. Just when I think it will end, my body explodes again and again with starlight, and I find that this will never be enough. Finally, when we’ve reached the point of no return, we gasp aloud, each covering the other’s mouth in a moment of consideration.

Christian moves off of me, lying down next to me and laughing. He takes off the condom and puts it elsewhere before turning to me. Cradling my face in his, he kisses me again. “Are you all right?”

I nodded up at him. “Who knew sex would be like that,” I whisper. “Again, and again, and again... Absolutely incredible...”

His eyes widen. “You didn’t? You’ve never…”

I push myself up a bit on the pillow. “Not like that,” I reply, my eyebrows coming together at that. “I thought you understood...”

Christian reached out, touching my cheek. “It’s a bittersweet thing,” he said softly, his thumb lowering itself and brushing my lips.

“Because I’m no longer a sweet and innocent girl?” I ask.

“No,” he replies. “You’re the woman I love.”

I sit up, shaking my head. “No. Don’t be that guy, Christian. Any guy who says ‘I love you’ for the first time before, during, or after sex… Just, no. It doesn’t work that way, I’m sorry,” I say, and turn away from him.

Christian sighs and sits up with me, running his hands along my back. “All right, fine. Just know that I care very deeply for you, then.”

I giggle quietly, turning back to look at him. “That’s acceptable.” I get out of bed and slip on my lingerie again and then manage to get my dress on top. I pull on my heels and watch as Christian gets dressed as well, though also notice him staring at me. I find I am completely basking in his attention, almost as if he is an addictive drug that I’ll never get enough of. As if I am demanding my next fix from him, I permit myself to walk in what I believe to be a sultry manner towards the door and wait for him to unlock it.

He comes up behind me, fastening my locket about my throat before pulling me to him, a little squeal escaping my throat as his arms come about my waist, and I savor the pure and utter deliciousness of him resting his chin on my neck. “You’re all mine,” he whispers into my hair.

I feel my eyes rolling back in my head on a sudden wave of pleasure at the feel and the notion of his mouth on me. “Of course I am,” I reply.

He turns me around and gives me another kiss before turning on the light. He shakes his head at my appearance and produces a brush from the dressing table, pulling it gently through my hair; it feels deliciously intimate, allowing him to do such a thing—the last person to brush my hair for me had been a hairdresser, and not one I particularly enjoyed; before that, it had been my mother. He then proceeds to lightly pinch my cheeks so as I appear more flushed overall and then takes my hand.

“I hope you realize that the whole party will likely make an educated guess at what we’ve been doing,” he tells me as he unlocks the door.

I smirk. “Probably,” I reply as we step out of his bedroom and back down the hallway, my heart skipping a beat as I reached for his hand. “But it’s not as if we’re going to announce it, are we?”

Christian scoffs. “I hardly have an Instagram account of all my sexual encounters,” he replies with a smirk. “Although I did have an album titled, ‘Sexy Positions’...”

I lightly smack him on the arm. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

A laugh just escapes his throat. “Of course I am, Ana.” He then shows me the doors of Elliot’s and Mia’s bedrooms so as I can get a feel for this floor of the house before taking me back into his bedroom. We go across the room to the small door and he opens it, lighting the way with the hall light.

We proceed down the narrow staircase, a spiraling one, and end up at a second door. Christian opens it for me, flicking on another light as I step in. All around me, cherry wood bookshelves greet my eye with numerous leather-bound volumes upon them. I am shocked to find that there are grand staircases here, too, and three floors of books, including the one we stand on.

On the first floor, Christian explains that mathematical, books about geography, and various forms of science are located. Almost as if to prove his point, there is a massive antique globe located in the center of the room, which I am tempted to run my fingers over, but ultimately decide against it. There is a stone fireplace on one side, and two big armchairs parallel to each other, an ottoman placed between them.

Encircling an arm around my waist, Christian told me that the second floor was for the classics, and that the top floor was reserved for everyone’s favorites. He explained that there were individual sections on the top floor, and that everyone each had their own to fill with many books. I walked up the stairs to find his section on the third floor, each title in the others’ sections enthralling and amusing me.

When we came to Christian’s section, the very first book I saw was _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_. Blinking back tears, I shook my head at him, not wanting to be afraid at my reaction, but still wanting him to understand me all the same.

“What is it, Ana? Tell me.”

“That was Theodore’s and my favorite story when we were children. I bought it for him as a welcome home gift on the night that…” I turned into Christian’s arms, tears falling freely now, and never wanted him to let me go.

. . .

After composing one another, we returned to the party, where Mia was showing off her wonderful Italian desserts to everyone. Many women in white suits came up to her and exclaimed that she was a true delight and visionary, and that her talent and effervescence would take her far in the world of culinary pursuits. Mia blushed appropriately and wished everyone to try her treats.

I was thankful that Mia seemed aware of my allergy to coconut and she didn’t make me try any macaroons. I tried a vanilla-flavored petite-fours and found it to be perfect, and told Mia that she and I should get together to cook sometime, and I was delighted that she accepted. I was also shocked that she wanted to pull me away from all the fuss she was getting; I let her take my arm and lead me out into the garden, towards the maze.

“So you and my brother?” she asked, a knowing smile coming to her face. It was plain to see that she was a miniature version of her mother. Long blonde hair framed her face and her blue eyes shone in the sunshine. Her nose turned up ever so slightly, and had a wonderful bridge to it. Her eyelashes were naturally thick and her lips her the perfect amount of fullness. “I think I’ve met you before, or at least seen you somewhere…”

“I saw you,” I reply. “I saw you at Christian’s office on Thursday. You came in all rushed and flustered.”

Mia snapped her fingers with her free hand. “That was it! You were peeking at _The Seattle Sazerac_ when I came in!”

“Kate writes for it,” I reply. “I always like to pretend she’s a random person whose work I’m privileged to read.”

Mia nodded. “I see. You must have seen me ready to pull my hair out. That was not a good day for me.”

I chuckled, feeling like a complete idiot and wishing I had some kind of cocktail to knock back. “And there I was, acting so shallow, thinking that you were Christian’s secret wife or something…”

She blinked. “What?”

I sighed then, not wanting to be dishonest, but also not wanting to reveal too much about what I already knew. “I didn’t know he was adopted. He didn’t tell me. I’d only figured it out that morning but, since I’d only met Elliot before…” I shrug. “Elliot takes after your dad, and you, well…”

Mia smiled. “I know I take after my mom.” She took a free hand and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. “These,” she said, pointing to her ears, “and these,” she pointed to her eyebrows, “and this,” her mouth, “are all that Elliot and I have in common. His lips are slightly thinner than mine, though, as I’m sure you’ve seen, what with Ava being in your class and all.”

I nodded. “Yes, I see.”

She sighed. “Am I correct in assuming that Christian didn’t inform you of his true parentage, nor the reason for his adoption?”

I shook my head. “No. He said it wasn’t the right time yet.”

Mia bit her lip then, considering. “Well, I am inclined to respect his wishes. I mean, he is my brother, after all.” We walked into the maze, keeping silent for a few moments before finding a stone bench under an arbor, which we sat under. Roses had entwined themselves around the arbor, but since it was September, there were none to be seen, just an abundance of vines with thorns.

I turned and looked at the impressive hedges around us, and wanted to know one thing from Mia. Being his sister, she would know this information, as I did about Theo. She seemed to be as close to Christian as I was to Theo, and I would consider it odd if she didn’t know the answer to the question that was burning in my mind. “Did Christian ever love anyone?” I asked.

Mia looked at me, shocked. “What?”

“Has Christian ever been in love?” I clarified.

“You mean, besides with you?” she wanted to know.

I gasped. “What?” I felt my voice squeak out in a moment of confusion and fear, and I wondered how the hell Mia could have known that. Unless Christian had casually mentioned it to her at the office, or if he’d called her at some point to relay the information, or if Mia had some sort of experience in psychology, I needed to know—I needed to know all of it, no matter how dirty the laundry. “How do you know that?”

“I’m not blind, Ana,” she replied with a smile. “It’s plain to see that my big brother is in love with you.”

I shook my head. “I don’t see why.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Mia. My family is financially stable—hell, we’re very comfortable—but all of you… You’ve got this sprawling mansion with land and beautiful things and I’m…” I bit my lip. “I’m still in the process of paying off the one student loan that I decided to take out. Yes, I have a decent job, and a place to live, but Christian and all of you…” I looked away from her. “He is insanely good looking and he should be dating some blonde goddess who is like some kind of doppelganger to you, but not really because that would be kind of gross, but you know what I mean. I’m not…”

“You actually think you’re not worthy of him?” Mia asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

She shook her head, taking my hand and squeezing it. “You’re _so_ worthy of him, Ana, and I wouldn’t say that lightly, I never would. I can’t tell you how worthy of him you are—I could try, but I don’t think I would be able to put the right words to it. I mean, you’re intelligent and friendly and sweet… And I saw the way you looked at him and I saw the way he looked at you. So much love, so much trust…”

I smirk darkly. “Christian didn’t by any chance tell you how he and I first met?” I ask, turning back to look at her.

“He said he was dropping Ava off at school. He said you were a bit short with him and he thought it was sexy.”

I feel my cheeks bloom at that, and I try not to laugh. “S-sexy?” I ask, stunned. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever...”

“It also have to do with, I think, the appeal of innocence,” Mia nods, looking me up and down, seemingly satisfied. “He’s attracted to that as much as he is to intelligence. As far as I can see—and from what he’s told me—you possess both of those attributes.”

“What comes to mind when you think of Ethan Harper?” I ask, looking into her eyes to gauge her reaction.

At once, Mia goes white. She turns away, her mauve dress and fingernails becoming darker than her face. Her eyes are as wide as saucers and she begins to tremble as she considers how to answer me. “Ethan and Christian met one summer while we were vacationing in Pennsylvania—he was there as part of some program. He was shocked when we lived here, too. At the end of the summer, they were inseparable, always sleeping over at each other’s houses…”

_My mind flashed backwards to the years after John and Gwendolyn had decided to divorce, and how Gwendolyn had kept the house for a few years before moving across the country with her new rich and successful second husband, who would break up the family in more ways than one. I remembered going over to stay at Kate’s house every other weekend, and Kate would stay at my house on alternative weekends. I remembered one weekend when Kate and I were celebrating me getting a car, and we got dolled up and went to take it out for a spin together. Kate had forgotten her bag, and Ethan and some guy I didn’t know had come downstairs._

_“Hey, Nate,” I said, grinning at him._

_Ethan grinned back at me, his eyebrows going up and down at the sight of me that night; it was something he never hesitated doing. “Looking good, Ana!” he said. “Rich, this is Ana, Kate’s best friend.”_

_My heart nearly stopped at the sight of the drop dead gorgeous guy next to Ethan. “Nice to meet you,” I said, putting out my hand._

_“Likewise,” he replied, and, upon taking his hand, an electric charge seemed to pass between us, before Ethan hauled him out of there…_

“One night, when Mom and Dad were out of town—Elliot was twenty-five, Christian was twenty-one, and I was seventeen—we all had this big party. Mom and Dad were at this dental conference in Olympia—they described it as a rules and regulations type thing for dental hygienists that Dad was required to attend because he employed so many of them,” she said, shrugging her thin shoulders.

“They leave you home alone often?” I ask.

“A few times a year,” she replied. “Elliot was in the house with Leila —they dated for six years before getting married—and Christian was playing some games with some guys. I was getting too tired from all the drunkenness around me—I had, like, two drinks—and so I went out to the pool. Ethan followed me out and, after talking for a while, he convinced me to play strip poker with him, and the loser had to jump in the pool. Ethan cheated, and he stripped me down and threw me into the pool. I thought it was a joke, but then he came in after me, and then he…”

I reach out then, putting a hand on her arm as she breaks down completely. “Mia, did Ethan rape you?” I ask.

“He sure as hell tried, then,” she says quietly. “Beat me up after I got away, and after I tried to tell Elliot and Christian. Gave me a black eye and manipulated me into thinking that I was the one who wanted it. A few weeks later, he came over while no one was here. I didn’t let him in, and tried to hide, but he found me by the pool again. Then that’s what he did…” She buries her face in her hands for a time before raising her head. “I took the offer of a program in New York, and studied culinary over there for a while. It was there that I discovered my pregnancy, and I ended up giving the child up for adoption…”

“Mia, you did a beautiful thing when you found yourself in an unfortunate situation,” I tell her gently.

She shakes her head. “There were complications…”

“Was the baby all right?”

“Not with the baby! Not with my little boy…with me!” she bursts out then, her eyes turning and boring into mine. “It was some doctor new on the job or something, and he fucked up with me. And now all I have to look forward to is to being the next Julia Child…” Her voice breaks, and she looks at a loss for words.

“Why is that all you have to look forward to?” I ask.

She sighs, leaning up against the back wall of the pool house. “Not only did that bastard take my virginity, but he also took my ability to have children,” she wails, throwing herself into my arms and sobbing wretchedly. “I can’t have another child naturally…”

“What the hell is going on here?!” demands a familiar voice, and it is then that Christian steps out from behind the laurel hedges around the pool, his face etched with concern. “Mia, why would you keep that from me?”

Mia raises her eyes to her brother, her arms still wrapped around me. “Because you wouldn’t understand,” she replies.

“The hell I don’t,” Christian growls back. “Ethan and I got drunk once in college, and he tried to kiss me. Thought it was just a one-time thing, next weekend it happens again. Only this time, he brought along the restraints. Hand cuffs me to the bed and attempts to get me off. I managed to get out of the restraints and to get the hell out of there. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to see him pay…”

“Christian,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He shakes his head. “No. Thought it was just the alcohol in his system, but after I saw what he did to you, and heard what he did to Tabby, and just now with Mia… We’ve got a serial predator on our hands, Ana. Who knows what he’s done to other people?” He reaches into his pocket and removes his phone, pressing a number and waiting. “Elena, bring Eric and meet us by the pool. We’ve encountered something.”

“A set-back?” I hear her reply on his phone.

“A potential break,” he responds.


	12. Picking Up the Pieces

Elena and Eric come immediately around the garden and towards the pool area, where they converge upon us. Elena takes Mia aside and asks her to tell her story again, while I turn to Christian. I motion for him to go off with Eric, to tell him, but he resists. Eric senses that something is wrong, so he takes Christian by the shoulder and drags him to the other side of the garden, and I know deep within me that he is fully prepared to play good cop/bad cop with his old friend.

I run my hands through my hair, knowing that Ethan is a serial rapist, and I wonder if he’s ever gone farther than that. I raise my eyes to Elena and Mia, and Elena takes Mia in her arms as she continues to sob. Eric rests his hand briefly on Christian’s shoulder before telling him to rejoin me before he takes out his walkie.

“Chief Eric,” I hear him say as I pull Christian into my arms. “We’ve got a situation over here at the Grey house. We’re talking about multiple 261’s here,” he says quietly into his device as Christian rests his head upon my shoulder. “Prior,” he says quickly. “Yeah, I’ll bring them right in. Thanks,” he says, shutting it off.

. . .

Christian says he will make his excuses to his parents later at our leaving the party, but I just hope that they don’t ultimately blame me for it. Elena, Eric, Mia, Christian, and I slip around the side of the house to the area where all the cars are kept. Christian and I take Mia in his car while Elena and Eric lead the way back to Seattle. I go to sit in the back with Mia, who is inconsolable once again, and keep my arms around her until we cross the freeway and get to the police station in Seattle.

Elena and Eric wait for us in the reception area before Christian walks on through, Mia in tow. I am shocked that Eric doesn’t need to even show his badge, for everyone immediately clears the way for all of us. He takes us into his office and gets onto his phone, where he summons detectives from Spokane, for that is the closest place with the Special Victim’s Unit. He then makes another phone call to Boeing, where we secure a plane to take us there.

I wonder why he didn’t do that before, but shrug it off as we return to the freeway, this time in a squad car. We make it to the airport quickly and soon board a plane for Spokane. Using my phone, I determine that it will take under an hour to arrive and when we do, Mia is exhausted from all her crying at finally confessing what happened to her. We land safely at the airport and drive the five miles into their downtown area, where we soon arrive at their Special Victims Unit.

Eric exits the car and advances upon a man waiting for us, who he quickly introduces as Chief Bryson Ambrose, the Chief of Police in Spokane. Elena already seems to know Chief Bryson, and greets him amicably while Christian, Mia, and I do the same. He leads us into the building and takes us to the Special Victim’s own unit where we are all introduced to Captain Jeff Peters, and his four detectives—Det. Larry Schmitz, Det. Audrey Hanover, Det. Grace Michaels, and Det. Roxanne Newton.

“You got my call,” Chief Ambrose tells Captain Peters.

Captain Peters nods. “Yes, of course I did. Hanover, you’ll see to Miss Steele. Michaels and Newton, Miss Grey. And Schmitz, you’ll speak with Mr. Grey,” he says in a voice full of authority.

Det. Audrey Hanover steps forward then, making a beeline for me to let me know who I’d been assigned to. She had her jet-black hair fashioned in an attractive bob hairstyle and smiles at me in a sympathetic manner. “Why don’t you come with me this way, Miss Steele?” she asks.

I nod, knowing that I’ll have to tell my story again. I walk after her as she takes me to what appears to be an interrogation room, and I sit in the offered chair. I accept her offer of water and close my hands around the glass, forcing myself to keep from shaking.

“Miss Steele—”

“Ana, please, Detective Hanover,” I reply.

She smiles. “Call me Audrey, Ana,” she replies, sitting across from me. “Now, Ana, can you please tell me what happened?”

I nod. “Yes. Over a week ago, on that Friday—the eighteenth—I left school early, I’m a fourth-grade teacher. I went shopping before returning to the condo I share with my best friend. We went out that night to a club…”

“And what club was that?” Audrey asks, pausing in her notes.

“The Electric Violin,” I reply, feeling as if its name will always be synonymous with me and my ordeal. “Kate’s older brother Ethan is its owner.”

“And Kate is?”

“My best friend and housemate,” I reply.

She nods, hesitating before continuing to write. “And then what happened, Ana? Was going to this club a frequent Friday night activity?”

I nod. “Yes. We go every Friday.”

She nodded. “Was this Friday night special in any way, or was it just a typical Friday night, long work week, let’s have some fun kind of night…?”

I smile a little. “I have a twin brother, Theodore, who was away at Columbia University in New York, studying medicine. He just graduated and he’s due to start his residency here. We were celebrating his homecoming,” I explain to her patiently.

“I see,” she says, still taking notes. “New York isn’t exactly next door. I’ll bet you were happy to have him back.”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Did you drink that evening?” she asks me. When she sees my reaction, she quickly backpedals at that. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Ana; I have to ask. Just because you’re drunk, doesn’t mean that the assault didn’t happen, or that it was your fault. I want to make sure that you understand that.”

I shake my head at her. “No, I had water—I wanted to keep my head clear for Theo’s coming home. I don’t really drink. I wasn’t drunk that night and I’ve never been drunk.”

She nods. “All right.” She pauses and writes something down. “So your brother is home from medical school… Who else was with you?”

“Kate has an older sister, Gia, who was there with her now-fiancé, Scott, and we also ended up celebrating their engagement…”

“Was anyone else around that you knew?”

“Yes,” I replied. “The parents of a child in my class—Elliot and Leila Grey. Elliot is Christian’s older brother. Leila and I have grown quite close; she’s probably my closest friend other than Kate, and maybe Annette, my student teacher. I talked with them both for a period before Ethan and I went to dance with the other couples.”

“So there’s a dance floor at the Electric Violin?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“What happened on the dance floor?”

I bite my lip as I remember it clearly. “Ethan kissed me.”

“Had you kissed before?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“When?”

I lower my eyes, scanning the pattern of the table in front of me. “The first time was back when I was twenty-one, during a New Year’s party. He also tried to kiss me when I was eighteen, as a Christmas party. Both times, I said no, and the first time he tried to kiss me I got away. The second time, he held me there and wouldn’t let go…”

“And that night?”

I shrugged. “I guess he finally got it through his thick head that I really wasn’t interested in him in that way.”

“So he kisses you, and…?”

“I explain to him that I’m only interested in being friends,” I tell her. “I walk away from him and go to the back where the restrooms are.”

“And why did you go back there?”

“The music was too loud and I needed a drink of water,” I say, feeling my eyes becoming hot with tears. “I got the water, and that was when I first heard the footsteps behind me. I turned and looked, and there he was, almost as if he was waiting for me.”

“What did you do then?”

I bit my lip, remembering it. “I reiterated that I wasn’t interested. I tried to sidestep him, but he wasn’t having it. He grabbed me,” I whispered, reaching up to feel the bump upon the back of my head.

“Did he hurt you further?” Audrey asked.

I nodded. “He slammed me against the wall, and then he grabbed me there, between my legs…” I promptly put my knees together at that, shuddering at the sensation of Ethan’s hands invading the most secret part of myself, feeling as though I was in desperate need of a wastepaper basket. “I kicked him in his boys and he hit his head on the water fountain. He was out cold, and that’s when I saw Christian.”

“Christian Grey followed you back there?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“He was there?”

I nod again. “Yes.”

“Did Christian say anything to you?”

I nodded again. “Yes. He explained that he saw what Ethan had done to me on the dance floor and that he was concerned. He then drove me home after telling me that Theodore and Kate left together… That was why Ethan was so upset. He didn’t want my brother with Kate…”

“Is it at all possible that Ethan simply felt anger towards your brother and took it out on you?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

“You sound sure of that.”

I raise my eyes to hers. “Quite sure.”

“And why is that?” she wants to know.

I feel my fingers knotting together. “Because Mia and Christian are in your other rooms right now, telling you their sides of the story.”

“Ethan assaulted them, too?”

I nod. “Yes. He raped Mia, and he assaulted Christian sexually. I’ve also got a friend named Tabitha, who’s first child was fathered by Ethan as a result of rape. Who knows how long this has been happening? Who knows if it’s simply ended with rape?”

There is a knock at the door then and Eric sticks his head in. “Hey,” he says kindly to the two of us. “Elena’s just got a call from you for your doctor, and as your lawyer, she needs to speak with you.”

“Excuse me, please,” I say, getting to my feet and following Eric outside and into the hallway where Elena is. She completes her conversation on the phone for a moment and turns to me. “Yes?” I ask.

She sighs. “I’ve just received word from your doctor, Dr. Greene,” she says patiently. “It seems as if the fluid on your legs was a result of Ethan becoming excited by his assault of you the other night.”

I lower my eyes. “I see.”

Elena sighed, reaching out and touching my shoulder. “It was compared to the sample Kate gave earlier, and both come from the same source. Along with the videotaped evidence, we’ve got Ethan on one proven count of assaulting you. Until or unless those tapes turn up, all we’ve got is the physical evidence that Dr. Greene took from you the afternoon after he first assaulted you.”

“And Mia?” I ask.

She nods at that; it was a logical question, to be sure. “Fortunately, the statute of limitations hasn’t run out for her just yet, and under normal circumstances, we’d be able to get Ethan for statutory rape,” she says quietly.

I looked up at her. “Really? That’s great!”

Elena looked uncomfortable then. “Unfortunately, Mia did not report it when it happened, which means that we will be unable to get physical evidence from her. I’m unsure if the jury, any jury, would be willing to put him away for that under her testimony alone, not to mention the laws here…”

“Laws? What laws?” I demand. “She was seventeen, and a minor, therefore the law should recognize that she was unable to properly give consent!”

Elena shakes her head at me. “Unfortunately, that’s not how it works, Ana. First-degree statutory accounts for the victim being less than twelve and the perp has to be two years older. Second-degree means that Mia would have to have been older than twelve but less than fourteen, in which case Ethan would be three years older. Third-degree is if the victim is fourteen or fifteen, placing Ethan at four years older.”

I shake my head at her, baffled. “So what you’re saying is, that the law essentially protects Ethan from committing statutory with Mia?!” I cry.

Elena sighs. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Same goes for Tabby then,” I say, turning away from Elena then. I feel angry tears prick at my eyes as I slam my fist, hard, into the concrete wall. “God dammit…” I bite my lip as I lower my eyes to my hand, which is now in pretty bad shape as my blood covers and drips down the wall. “Fuck…”

Eric manages to find some sanitary napkins and some gauze so he and Elena make quick work of bandaging my hand up.

“Based on your testimony alone, without being able to be convicted of statutory, Ethan’s looking at thirty-six months in custody with the correct lawyer,” Elena tells me quietly, as I turn and lock my eyes to hers. “The maximum term would be sixteen years and three months and the minimum is thirteen years and nine months,” she tells me, and I swear under my breath again. “Unfortunately, there is no way that Ethan could stay there that long and not be paroled.”

“I had a member of the team here do a profile on him as soon as we got the information about Tabitha, versus the information on the two times he attacked you,” Eric says softly, and I turn to look at him.

“Really?” I ask, my tone unemotional. “What was found?”

“Ethan’s M.O. is all about power, and he gains the power through dominance and sexual gratification by making sure that his victims cannot get away. He attempts to guilt them during his attack by informing his prey that they’re asking for it, or that they belong to him in some way, which, in his mind, makes the attack justifiable in some way.”

I shake my head. “God… Really makes you want to get inside his head, but having a firearm would be helpful…”

“No firearms,” Elena says, giving me a smile.

I turn and look back at Audrey, who has returned to her desk, but probably will want to ask me about Ethan’s second attack. Getting to my feet, I thank Elena and Eric and continue on my way back to the room. Audrey is quite understanding about the whole thing and allows me to be brief on the second attack, but I manage to give her the important details. Mia and Christian are finished with their interviews soon thereafter and, since it is getting late, we all decide to return to our respective homes.

Christian suggests to Mia that she take a break from school, and she agrees, deciding to return in the new year, after the Christmas holidays. After the plane ride, Christian takes me home and I send a quick text to Theodore, informing him of my whereabouts. Theodore tells me that he and Kate are contemplating moving in together, so I wonder what my living situation would turn out to be in the meanwhile.

I kiss Christian goodnight and head inside my parent’s house, heading straight upstairs and into a shower. After my shower, it is around ten-thirty, and I decide to head to bed. I gather my things for school the following morning, and select and outfit, hanging it on the outside of my wardrobe. I plug in my phone and hope that it charges properly throughout the night, and check in for any last minute text messages or emails. Finding none, I set my phone’s alarm for seven the next morning and drift off to sleep.

. . .

I am walking in a field of wildflowers, a soft, cool breeze flitting about me. The sky is overcast but the day itself feels humid, warm, almost as if a summer shower is about to take place. I hear my name being called and, turning, I see a smiling Christian, standing by the edge of the field in front of me. I find myself giving out a cry of joy and I run across the field to him, some of the wildflowers shooting into the air and their petals becoming tangled in my hair as I get closer to him.

Christian grabs me as soon as I’ve reached him, and he leans down to kiss me. I feel suddenly reckless then as I throw my arms around his neck. I want him then as he wants me, and know that we will make love in that field. I feel a slight giggle escaping forth from my lips, but suddenly it turns to revulsion when his hand descends below my waist and cups me there.

“This is mine,” he growls in a voice not his own.

Feeling the goose bumps upon my flesh, I raise my eyes to his, and find I am screaming when Ethan’s eyes look back at me.

. . .

My screams seeps forth into the real world when suddenly a great blaring comes into my thoughts. My eyes shoot open, and I find myself staring at the cause of the blaring: my phone, announcing that seven a.m. has come and I need to get ready. I throw back my comforter and get to my feet, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I cross the room to my wardrobe. I gather the plum colored blazer and skirt and make a grab for the white tank top to go underneath the blazer. I step into everything, along with a pair of skin-colored pantyhose and my typical black heels.

I head into my bathroom and drag a brush through my hair, and I somehow manage to get it to stay neat around my face. Brushing my teeth quickly, I put on an appropriate lipstick along with a bit of blush and mascara before switching off the light and grabbing my purse and my satchel. I head downstairs a bit after seven-thirty, declining my parent’s offer of a home cooked meal for breakfast and instead grab an energy bar. Kissing them both, I head into the garage to collect my car.

Strapping myself in, I make the thirty-minute drive across town to Ivy Door Academy. The traffic is not terrible that morning, and I manage to arrive only a bit after eight. As I step inside, I head straight for the secretary’s office, and wonder how Mrs. Mitchell’s attitude will be that morning. I smile at her and fill out the customary paperwork that any teacher must fill out after a period of absence and raise my eyes upward when Dean Channing’s office door opens rather unexpectedly.

“Anastasia, wonderful to have you back,” he says to me, smiling at me with his kind expression. He is African American, a few inches taller than me, with the whitest hair you could ever hope to find. Always wore a suit of some kind to work with wonderfully patterned ties that the students adored. “Would you join me in my office, please? Won’t take more than a few minutes.”

“Of course, Michael,” I reply, smiling at Mrs. Mitchell before crossing the room and stepping into his office.

He shuts the door behind me and heads over to his desk. “I’ve just gotten off the phone with Tabitha Baxter-Davidson.”

“Oh,” I reply, feeling slightly fazed at that, my eyebrows raise as I take his offer to sit across from him. “A bit early, isn’t it? I suppose she wants her children to take the entrance exam as soon as possible.”

“Yes, and we’ve scheduled the exam,” he replies. “Jeremiah will be taking it with James Coolidge tomorrow at three, Henrietta with you at the same time, and little Gabriel will be taking his exam with Rita Silver. I’m told all three children are extremely well-behaved and that they are either on par or advanced in various skills.”

“Annette would have to take over my last lesson, although I’m sure that won’t be an issue for her,” I reply. “She’s been experimenting with various art mediums with the children of my classroom lately, and we both read recently in an article that either playing games or doing something creative at the end of a school day calms the children for the transition of a different background ahead.”

“Annette teaches the children other things, doesn’t she?” asks Michael in a rather concerned voice. “This wouldn’t be a problem if she was studying to be an art teacher, but she would need to work with Amber Savage if that was the case…”

I shake my head. “No, it’s part of her degree. Each month she has to focus on a different subject to teach them. This month, it’s art. October is English, November is math, December is history, January is science… The list goes on, Michael, with February being poetry, March being literature, April being creative writing, with May and June being used for general testing to assist the students in moving to the grade ahead.”

“Seems as though you’ve done your research,” he replies.

“I’ve never seen such a program,” I reply. “I think it’s innovative and a very good way to tackle potentially difficult subjects. With this program, you’re not constantly going from one subject to the next with the assistant teacher. With me, it’s all right, because I’m the main teacher, and the kids are used to that schedule every day. With the assistant teacher, the tone is different and they have a potentially harder time listening or paying attention to that because children will frequently balk at something potentially new and seemingly uninteresting. The curriculum that Annette is focusing on is the fact that kids must be drawn to the lesson within five minutes, otherwise they will feel trapped and forced to do the lesson.”

“An interesting way of looking at it,” Michael says. “Well, I can tell you that Annette is doing a wonderful job and that she will be a wonderful addition to the faculty and staff next fall. With her doing so well in the program, we are considering allowing the both of you to participate in it next year. What do you think about that?”

I smile at him. “While nobody could replace Annette’s methods, I would be proud to welcome another assistant teacher next year.”

Michael nods when his phone rings. He checks the caller I.D. and tells me that he must take the call. Nodding, I get to my feet and thank him for his time before excusing myself and going to my classroom. Unlocking the door, I find that Annette has kept the place almost completely immaculate—a shocking feat with twenty students crammed in a classroom—and am pleased that I’ve left the children in her hands the past week.

Getting to my desk, I fire up my computer and check my school email to see if I’ve missed anything. With no emails unaccounted for, I quickly send something to Tabby informing her of the decision regarding her children and let her know that Henrietta’s competency test will take place the following afternoon at three. When nine o’clock looms, I log out of my email and quickly dash outside in order to meet my students.

Annette is waiting outside with them, and we share a brief hug before the rest of the boys and girls from our class converge into a line. After a gaggle of excitement after my return, I thank them all again for their get-well card as we all head inside. Each child makes their way to his or her desk and quickly gets out their necessary materials before we prepare for their reading tests. They answer the questions effortlessly and each child passes accordingly. We then do a math worksheet and prepare for our science experiment. Then it is time for morning recess and the children soon scatter.

As Annette grades their reading tests in the teacher’s lounge, I am shocked when I see Elena’s name and number pop up on my phone. I quickly slide the green phone icon to the right and put it up against my ear.

“Hello?”

“Ana, it’s Elena,” she says gravely. “Eric’s on his way to the Electric Violin now. We’ve managed to successfully track Ethan’s movements and he’s there, so he’s got his squad ready to grab him.”

I find I am shaking. “Oh,” I reply. “And then what happens?”

“Ethan will be brought in for questioning, but if he doesn’t understand his rights or if he lawyers up—which he just might because, as a guilty man, he will probably want to evade questioning—he won’t be obligated to answer any of Eric’s questions. He may be a total douchebag, Ana, but the law is on his side—innocent until proven guilty.”

“He’s guilty,” I reply.

“I know that. Eric has also managed to get a warrant for his apartment Downtown to see about the tapes. Ethan doesn’t seem to be that quick on his feet, and, knowing perps like him, he would have kept the tapes,” Elena says darkly to me.

“Keep them?” I demand. “I know he’s a sick bastard, Elena, but why keep them? Assume he commits murder and the police search his apartment at a later time and end up coming across them?”

“He keeps them to get off, Ana,” Elena tells me point blank. “He keeps them—or other pieces of memorabilia or trophies—hidden in a special place so that when he’s assured of being along, and if he wants to have a little fun, he will use them to revisit the events. Mia told me that he kept the pair of panties she was wearing when he raped her—at least, he took them with him after he left her. And with Tabby, I heard he took some of her hair. Just because we’ve got the same perp, doesn’t automatically mean that he’ll take the same kind of trophy.”

“That’s sick, Elena, beyond sick,” I whisper.

“It is. Now I want you to listen to me—we are tracking Ethan’s movements, and Eric has a few dozen men on him. There is no way that he can get to you at any time. However, just in case, I want you to keep your phone on you, on vibrate, at all times. Now, be honest with me, Ana, does he know exactly where your parents live? I know he was there the other night, but he was drunk, and it was dark…”

“Yes,” I reply. “He came over all the time when me and Theo were little, and when Kate lived there, he was over even more. But, it’s probably the safer bet since the condo is within ten minutes from the Electric Violin…”

“Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. If something goes wrong in his snatching and arrest, you’re ordered to go to your parents’ house. I assume they have a high-tech security system of some kind?”

“Yes, just installed a year ago,” I reply. “Best there is.”

“And you know all the passwords?”

“Yes, I’ve house-sat for them before…”

“Okay. If you get a call from me about Ethan, let the school know so that you can run. I want you in that house, with doors locked, windows barred, and ever key code or password in place. Now…do you keep a gun?”

I sigh, knowing that this is bad. “Yes. In my car. I have a concealed weapons permit and everything. My boss knows about it and is okay with it as long as it stays locked up and hidden in my car at all times.”

“Take it inside with you and hide in your bedroom—remember, with windows and doors locked—and get under your bed if you can. With your phone beside you, we will let you know if this goes awry. You got me?”

“I got you,” I reply.

“Good. Eric is picking Ethan up in under an hour. Don’t worry, Ana, we’re gonna get him.”

“Gee, I hope so,” I reply, hanging up.

. . .

I don’t get a call from Elena until four, after school has been over for almost an hour. I am sitting in my bedroom at my parents’ house, answering emails from potentially concerned parents, when my phone suddenly lights up. I move to make a move to answer the phone when I see that it is from her.

“Elena,” I say into the phone. “What’s happening?”

“We’ve got him,” she says, relief in her voice. “Eric and his boys did very well. Sorry it took so long to get back to you—I had to help with the processing paperwork since I’m assigned to you in the case.”

“It’s all right… Was he belligerent…?”

She sighs. “Of course,” she says, her voice annoyed. “Denied everything, even gave another DNA sample, almost as if to prove that he didn’t touch you. I just don’t know what’s going through his head when he was willing to give it. His most recent sample isn’t back yet and it won’t be for another two days. I’m just about to head into court now on your behalf. I’m going to request that Ethan be remanded without bail for what he’s done to you. I think, since the tape of him breaking and entering into your house and assaulting you has been entered into evidence—and that Dr. Greene will be a witness and her medical results are admissible—and due to the fact that his DNA is all over you, our case will be fantastic. DNA doesn’t lie, Ana. We’re going to get him.”

“Thank you,” I reply.

Christian comes over and waits with me by the phone for Elena to get back to us on the verdict of the trial. We order Chinese takeout and attempt not to get the shavings from the cheap chopsticks into our dinner, when finally, I grow more than a little annoyed and fetch the proper ones from a kitchen drawer. Elena calls back a little after six, just as we’ve begun eating.

“Elena,” I say, gripping Christian’s hand. “Tell us… What’s going on?”

“Judge took everything out of context,” she snaps. “Sorry, just mad at this asshole… Pretty much, he said that he believed Ethan’s lawyer that he is acting like a love struck teenager and shouldn’t be proven guilty without a proper trial. He completely ignored any evidence that I had put forth in his guilt of what he did to you. Incredible…”

“But where is he now?” Christian asks. “He’s in jail until trial, right?”

“Oh, Ana, Christian… No. Since Ethan has no prior offenses, the judge turned him lose until trial.”

“Lose?” I whisper. “No…”

“He’s been ordered to stay away from you, so I suggest you remain at your parents’ house for the time being,” Elena instructs me. “Ethan is not allowed to leave Seattle, and is instructed to go to work and go home. For groceries, he is instructed to order directly for delivery from Amazon. He is only permitted in his apartment Downtown and The Electric Violin, Ana. Don’t worry. Once a grand jury sees him, he’ll be sorry.”

Elena says goodbye shortly thereafter and I hang up. I turn immediately into Christian’s arms and weep openly. He rubs my back and whispers sweet nothings into my ear, telling me that we’re going to get him and that I don’t need to worry about a thing. Mom and Dad are out at yet another function, and Theodore is over at the condo with Kate again, so there is no question what happens between us next.

I feel utterly pathetic as I peek up at him before placing my hand upon his cheek and bringing his lips down to meet mine. He kisses me willingly, but once I deepen the kiss and move to lie on top of him, he pulls away from me and shake his head. Christian then claims that I’m too upset and that we probably shouldn’t do what I’m thinking.

“Christian, I _need_ this,” I whisper. “Please.”

A smile picks up at the corners of his mouth, and his dimples excite me to no end, causing me to shiver. He places his hands gently upon my shoulders and moves them downward, towards the small of my back, and cups me there momentarily, pulling me on top of him. We seem to mold to one another, perfect pieces to life’s complicated jigsaw puzzle.

“I don’t want you becoming so dependent on this…”

I space my legs a bit so as I’ve mounted him, and he shudders under me as I do this. “You make this sound as if this isn’t a permanent arrangement,” I say, leaning down slightly to take his lower lip into my mouth.

‘And you make it sound like a business deal,” Christian counters.

I raise my hands to the buttons upon his shirt and unbutton them, one by one, flushing a bit as I feel his eyes on me. I then raise my arms and allow him to take off my shirt, which he does with ease. “Not a business arrangement,” I say, sighing in delight as he removes my bra and takes my breasts into his hands and squeezing them gently.

“How’s that?”

I lean down and proceed to kiss his neck. “Because this would be the very definition of an _inappropriate_ business arrangement,” I reply.

Christian grins, taking me by the hips and flipping me over onto my back and proceeds to suck on my breasts, while I tangle my fingers in his hair. He removes his pants and socks in a hurry, while I manage to get out of my skirt in one fell swoop. He slides off the bed and removes his boxers, removing a condom from his pants’ pocket, and prepares himself before getting onto the bed again. I wrap my legs around his torso and feel myself inadvertently moan as he enters me then. His mouth is on mine again and I don’t want this to stop—his mouth on me, him inside me—for the never ending bliss that I feel is too wonderful to pass up.

I gasp a little as he moves inside me then, and I know it then, but I don’t say it. I’ve known it for an entire day, but I won’t let myself say the words aloud. It’s too soon, too soon to say these words.

I was falling in love with Christian Grey.


	13. When It All Comes Crashing Down

I woke up in Christian’s arms the following morning a bit after six. I immediately untangled myself from him and dashed to the bathroom, quickly turning on the water and stepping into the shower. The water felt divine on my skin, and I washed away everything of the night before, except the series of love bites that covered my neck and breasts. I finished my shower and blow-dried my hair before I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, as Christian was pulling on his socks.

“Good morning,” I say.

He smiles up at me. “Good morning.” He steps into his shoes and crosses the room, blazer over one shoulder, and stands before me. He gives me a quick, closed-mouth kiss, because his eyes tell me he doesn’t want to be potentially disgusting with me just yet. “Want to get together later?”

I smile. “I’ll talk to my parents—I’m sure they know you stayed over by now. I think my mom said something about her chicken pot pie for dinner. Would you like to stay?”

He nods. “I would.”

I shiver beneath his hot gaze—the notion of having a rather deliciously gorgeous man in my childhood bedroom was almost too hot to handle. “Okay… Well, I’ve got to get dressed and get my things together. I’m seeing Tabby’s daughter Henrietta after school today for her competency test. I should be finished around four and home before five, pending what traffic is like…”

Christian smiles. “I’ve got a meeting at nine to discuss better security measures in our office, along with a slew of other meetings regarding upcoming cases. Shall we say six o’clock tonight? I’ll come over…”

I nod. I slip into the bathroom, pulling him with me and reaching under the bathroom counter. I hand him a toothbrush and point to the toothpaste resting upon the counter. Nodding at my own toothbrush, which has a fair amount of water droplets on it, I cross my arms and smile at him.

He chuckles then and brushes his teeth in a frenzy, before smiling his pearly whites at me. I jump into his arms then and kiss him, our tongues attacking one another, and small moans escaping from my mouth to his and back again, like a merry-go-round. He then pulls me from the bathroom, his mouth still on mine, and we make love quickly, keeping our mouths locked together so as to keep our actions as quiet as possible.

“You’re amazing,” he says quietly to me, and I see that it is after seven already, but I don’t make a move to get up again.

“I have to shower again before work now,” I say, a laugh escaping my throat then as I find the whole situation rather funny.

“Sorry,” Christian replies, unapologetic, a smile stretching from ear to ear.

I quickly mount him again, grinning down at him. “Oh, we’re not finished yet, Grey. I think I’m ready for it again.”

. . .

I arrive at school shortly after eight-thirty, slipping with my Frappuccino into my classroom and heading directly over to my computer to check my work email. I don’t suspect anything until my door opens, a few minutes later, and Mrs. Fields walks in, all smiles. Her smile is knowing and telling all at once, and she comes to sit beside my desk.

“Hot date last night?”

I immediately flush and turn back to my computer. “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.”

“The blush, the turtleneck, and you arriving over half an hour before your usual time tipped me off.”

I feel myself biting my lip and push back from the computer. “Mrs. Fields, it’s not what you think…”

“And the sudden propriety,” she says, chuckling good naturedly. “Ana, dear, I’ve told you since the beginning, call me Gloria.”

“Gloria… Really, it’s not…”

She smiles as I stop talking. “Ana, I know. My husband, Harvey, and I were quite like you and your mystery man at the beginning. You know what he would do, in the middle of the courting ritual? He would arrange with the secretary—this was when the former one, Dagmar Morrison was still working—to leave a box of chocolates in my classroom, or sometimes it would be a bouquet of my favorite flowers, peonies. I wasn’t in it for the gifts, Ana, if that’s what you’re thinking, dear. I was in it for the spontaneity, and for the love of being wanted and desired and loved.”

“I didn’t think you would be in it for the gifts, Gloria,” I reply, smiling at her. “I guess I just don’t want to get my hopes up, that’s all…”

“Oh. Are you unsure about his being serious?”

I smile at that and shake my head. “No. He’s very sincere. And he should be, although in his line of work—according to my mother, back when I was in high school—he’s a trained liar.”

“What does he do?” Gloria asks.

“He’s an attorney for this big law firm Downtown,” I reply. “Nice guy. Enjoys his job…”

Gloria sighs and bites her lip. “I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything, but you were out all last week and Annette took over your class…”

I raise my eyebrows. “Do you doubt her competency?”

She shakes her head. “Oh, no, just the opposite, actually. She handled the children exceptionally well at the monthly assembly last week, and performed quite well during lunch duty. And even when taking over for playground monitor, like you do, she was wonderful. Prevented one of my boys from taking down one of your girls, literally,” Gloria says, chuckling lightly.

“Why do you ask?” I inquire, even though I already know the answer.

Gloria ponders for a moment. “Well, I’m asking why she took over for you, and now you’re dating an attorney for some reason…” She sighs. “Ana, I consider you a friend. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

I nod. “I know.”

She sighs, giving me a small smile. “Well, I won’t force you to tell me what happened, Ana, because I know it’s none of my business unless you make it my business.” She smiles at me and folds me into a hug. “Just know that I’m here if you ever need anything. I said as much to you in your first week here, and I’m telling you again now. You are a very good teacher. We don’t want to lose you.”

I sigh and pull back from her, hunching my shoulders ever so slightly. “Gloria, I was sexually assaulted on the eighteenth,” I say softly.

“Oh, Ana, no!” she cries.

I lower my eyes, knowing that, one day, this will be much easier to talk about. “Yes. I was out with Kate and Theodore—he just got back from Columbia and is beginning his residency in a few weeks… I was out at The Electric Violin, Kate’s brother Ethan’s place, and he—Ethan—assaulted me after…”

“After what?” Gloria asks. “Ana, what happened?”

“Kate and Theodore have been crazy about each other for years, and they finally got together that night—I guess his homecoming helped. Ethan…well, I wasn’t sure until then, but he’s harbored obsessive feelings towards me for a very long time. He tried to kiss me over our high school years—unsuccessfully—but on the New Years’ after my twenty-first birthday, he kissed me during a party. He was drunk, I didn’t think anything of it, but the other week he made yet another pass at me. I finally said no and left, but he followed me to the back of the place and that’s when he…”

“Ana, did Ethan rape you?” she asks.

I shake my head at her. “Not in the way you think,” I reply. “He…put his finger inside me,” I whisper, feeling hot tears enter my eyes. “I’d… I’d never…”

“He hurt you?” Gloria asks, nodding in between my legs. “I had you pegged for a good girl, Ana. I guess I didn’t understand how good you really were.”

“I guess I never felt like anything in my life was lacking,” I reply. “Until Christian entered the picture…”

“Christian? As in your student Ava’s nephew? Christian Grey?” she asks, her eyes widening.

I nod. “Yes. That’s him. We’ve become quite close… He’s not representing me or anything, his law partner, Elena, is doing that… But yes, Gloria, I was a virgin before Ethan attacked me…”

“So what happens now?”

“Elena’s husband, Eric, is the chief of police, and he successfully arrested Ethan yesterday. Unfortunately, since Ethan doesn’t have any priors known to the judge assigned to that part of the case, he’s been cut loose. He’s been told to keep away from me, but goodness knows how long that’s going to last, really. I’ve cleared it with Dean Channing, who is going to send out a mass email to every employee here on my behalf, but he’s not going to reveal the reason. The email will state that Ethan acted inappropriately towards one of the staff members, but he won’t say who. Gloria, I’m telling you this because you’re my friend, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t…”

She nods then, taking my hands in hers and squeezing them in a moment of comfort, a smile pulling up her lips ever so slightly. “Of course, Ana. No need to even ask. I’m your friend. Your secrets’ safe with me.” She checks her watch and gets to her feet, going to the door. “You mean to say that Ethan’s committed an offence before?”

I nod. “Yes, like so many others before him. He...committed rape as a teenager. The girl I’m testing later this afternoon—Henrietta—is Ethan’s son’s half-sister.”

Gloria raises her eyebrows at that. “Does Ethan even know that he has any children?” she wants to know.

I shrug. “If he does, he didn’t hear it from me,” I reply.

. . .

At three o’clock exactly, I excuse the children and leave the door to my classroom open for Henrietta to arrive with Tabby. I put a single desk for her by a window and open it; the day is warm and the fresh air will do her good. I remember Tabby telling me that Henrietta is quite fond of fruit punch, so I’ve bought a small jug of it and have put it in the mini fridge behind my desk. I’ve also got some kid-friendly paper cups, so I know that Henrietta will be very comfortable in here.

At a few minutes past three, Tabby enters with Henrietta, Jeremiah waiting in the hallway behind us to be taken to James Coolidge, the best—and most difficult—sixth grade teacher the school has. I wave to him and he attempts to look cool by sticking out his lips a bit and nodding at me. I bend down to little Henrietta, dressed in an adorable pink dress with her brown hair long and shiny down her back.

“Hello, Henrietta,” I say, getting eye-level to her. “My name is Anastasia, but you can call me Ana today. If you pass this little exam I have for you, you’ll call me Miss Steele, but there’s no formality here today. Why don’t you say goodbye to your mom and then we can get to know each other before you have to take the test?”

Tabby lifts up Henrietta and kisses her. “You be good. I’ll be talking to Dean Channing with Daddy while you and your brothers are working. Mr. Coolidge, Ana, and Mrs. Silver will take you all to the front office as soon as you’ve finished. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mama,” Henrietta replies as Tabby kisses her forehead, sets her down, and waves to me before leaving with Jeramiah.

“Now, Henrietta, why don’t you come over here with me?” I reach out my hand, an invitation, and she takes it. “You know, your mommy and I have been friends for a very long time. I met her when I was about your age,” I tell her, letting her sit in a chair across from me at my desk as I sit behind the rather large table.

“My age? When was that?” she asks.

I smile, attempting to do the quick math in my head. “Well, let’s see. It would have been about sixteen years ago. I’m in my twenties now.”

She smiles. “When I’m older like you, can I do whatever I want?”

I laugh at that. “Well, you’re certainly allowed to do more than you are right now, sweetheart.”

“Could I stay up until midnight if I wanted to?” she asks.

I laugh. “Well, yes, if you wanted to. If you were living in your own house and had your own job but had the day off the next day, then I should think so. Or, if you’re still living at home, then you’d have to be quiet. You find when you get older, you actually like having a nap now and again.”

She makes a face. “I hate naps!”

I nod. “Well, don’t worry. You only have to take a nap if you’re in daycare for very young children, or if you’re in preschool or nursery school. This is fourth grade, Henrietta. No naps for you now.”

She nods. “Good.”

“So what do you like to do, Henrietta? I’m sure there are some television shows you like to watch.”

She nods. “Yes. I like shows on PBS, like _Arthur_,” she tells me.

I smile at that notion. “My brother, Theodore, and I used to watch that. We really liked that one, too.”

She looks around and lowers her voice to a clandestine whisper. “And sometimes, when Grandma isn’t looking, I turn the channel to Nickelodeon, and I watch shows like _SpongeBob SquarePants_.”

I laugh at that, knowing that I’d been guilty myself of changing the television channel when a trusted adult hadn’t been looking for a minute. “I like that one, too. But remember, you shouldn’t do anything without permission. If you really like SpongeBob that much, then you should tell your Grandma about it. Who knows? Maybe the two of you can work something out where you’re allowed to watch it.”

“Is that what it’s like here at school?” she wants to know. “Asking permission and things like that?”

I smile at her. “Exactly. Besides, think of it like this: You wouldn’t want anyone to do something without your permission, would you?”

Henrietta makes a face at that. “But I’m a kid—just a kid. I can’t tell people what to do, Ana, can I?” she asks me.

I laugh a little at that—damn, she was a perceptive little thing. “No, you’re right.” I pause, considering a way to tell her of the rules in a proper fashion. “Say someone took something of yours. What’s your favorite toy?”

“My Felicity American Girl doll,” she replies, and I know that Henrietta must have given it to her, due to Felicity being “archived” and unavailable for a considerable amount of time. “I love her. I have all her clothes and accessories and things...”

“That’s very nice,” I reply, looking at the doll for a moment politely. “So, say you brought her to school with you for show and tell or something. And now, say someone took Felicity without permission. I’ll bet you wouldn’t like that, now would you?”

Henrietta, at once, shakes her head. “No!”

I smile. “That’s right. That’s what I mean, when it comes to permission. If someone takes something that doesn’t belong to you, what do you think happens?”

She pauses, thinking. “Well, wouldn’t they be in trouble?”

I nod. “That’s right.” I pull out a chair and sit, and nod for her to do the same. “I have an idea. Let’s say that someone took Felicity here at school. Even if you got her back, you’d still be pretty annoyed that someone took her in the first place, wouldn’t you?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“Well, let’s say you were in charge of the child’s punishment. What do you think would be an appropriate punishment?”

She bites her lip. “No recess for the rest of the day?”

I nod. “Yes, that would be fine. I’d also advise you to have the student write you an apology letter. Would that be all right?”

She nods. “And one to Felicity?”

I laugh, loving the thoughts and feelings children had and the fact that the whole filter argument hadn’t come into play yet. It was a young age, nine, and I knew that she would be safe from an argument based on certain topics for a few years or more. “Well, maybe not one to Felicity, but he or she would have to mention her within the letter.”

Henrietta laughs. “Yes, that’s good.”

“So, do you like to read?” I ask.

She nods enthusiastically, clapping her hands. “Yes! I love the _Magic Tree House_ books—Jack and Annie are my favorites,” she says excitedly.

“Do you?” I ask. “I liked those, too,” I reply in a stage whisper.

“Do we do a lot of reading in here?” she wants to know.

I nod. “Yes, we do. We have levels of what we call ‘The Reading Challenge’ that you can work your way up to in the upper grades. The first level is basic, then intermediate, then the last one is advanced,” I explain, realizing how bright she was, yet not wanting to go to fast, lest she panic that she didn’t know something. “You’ll do a test on your reading skills, math skills, social studies skills, science, all that good stuff.”

Henrietta’s brow takes on a worried look. “Four tests?” she asks.

I giggle. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You get one test that’s divided up into several sections. It may feel like more than one test, but trust me, it’s just one. Don’t worry, it’s very standard. I highly doubt you’ll get lost.”

She nods. “Okay. Can I take it now?”

I nod. “Yes, of course you can,” I tell her as I get to my feet and cross over to my desk, picking up the exam booklet and bringing it over to her. “There are two parts to the exam,” I explain to her. “The first part is English, reading, and social studies, while the final part is math and science.” I set the booklet down and pour her a glass of water from the large jug I keep in my mini fridge, and get her a plate of Goldfish crackers. “Now, I’ll just be answering some work emails and whatnot. I may get a phone call from someone, but all the calls go through the front office and I won’t be getting one in here unless it’s some sort of obvious emergency, so it’ll be very quiet.”

“Promise?” Henrietta asks, reaching in the pencil bucket for a pencil with a pink feather attached to its end.

I nod. “I promise,” I tell her, sitting back down at my desk. “Now, if you need anything at all, let me know.”

“Okay. Thank you, Ana,” she says with a sweet smile before turning to take a look at the booklet in front of her.

I catch a giggle from escaping the back of my throat and turn to my computer; I log on to my email account and answer a few work emails from parents, telling them that while I cannot meet with them today, I can certainly meet next week. Ivy Door Academy encouraged that currently enrolled students were the first priority within the system, while perspective students were a close second. Best interests for all children were important, of course, and while a currently-enrolled child’s parents may believe that they were top priority, we had to always ensure a safe and considerate environment for the children themselves before we made an effort to open further communication with any parents—whether your child was enrolled or not.

After I manage to finish all my work-related correspondence, I move the cursor over to the search bar so as I can log in to my personal email. Inevitably, I find an email from Christian, and I delight in the fact that my heart skips a beat and my knees immediately turn to jelly. Crossing my legs, I force myself not to become wet and to ruin my desk chair. Biting my lip and clicking the email with his name stamped upon it, I feel my cheeks heat at the words that immediately pop up onto my screen.

**From**: Christian Grey ([ChristianGreylawyerman@outlook.com](mailto:alexberkshawlawyerman@outlook.com))

**To**: Anastasia Steele ([AnastasiaSteelewannabeauthor@outlook.com](mailto:seraphinarichardsonwannabeauthor@outlook.com))

**Subject**: This Morning

_Quite an amazing and exhilarating performance this morning, Anastasia. I look forward too many more of them in the near future. Knowing that I have a teacher on my hands, I know that she will be able to please me based on the knowledge she has for history. However, my knowledge lies in the law, so I know when to draw the line. Mayhap we could discuss it later, at this place I know Downtown? I promise to have you home by curfew, unless you beg me to keep you longer._

_Christian Grey_

_Attorney at Law_

I know exactly what he wants me to say, but I don’t want to be “easy”; I don’t want to play directly into his hands, although a part of me would like to. I decide to play cleverly, knowing that perhaps it would get me punished later. I so desperately wanted to be punished by him; part of me knew that it would be the sweetest punishment ever.

**From**: Ana Steele ([AnastasiaSteelewannabeauthor@outlook.com](mailto:seraphinarichardsonwannabeauthor@outlook.com))

**To**: Christian Grey ([ChristianGreylawyerman@outlook.com](mailto:alexberkshawlawyerman@outlook.com))

**Subject**: This Evening?

_Mayhap you think I will merely bend to your will—which I know you want, and you seem to want it desperately, sir. That is not going to happen so easily. Far be it from me to tell you how to act, though you do the same to me on a regular basis. Perhaps you should be taught a lesson from Miss Steele. However, etiquette is something we women should know how to do by now—due to the hundreds of years we were made to learn it for the sake of obtaining a husband. I graciously accept your invitation this evening. You may pick me up from my parents’ house at six, and we can go anywhere you like, provided that you have me home by nine-thirty, sharp._

_Perhaps there will be something in the return home for you, provided that you behave like a perfect gentleman._

_Anastasia Steele,_

_Ivy Door Academy_

_Fourth Grade_

Henrietta completed her test in good time and I managed to peek and to look it over, knowing that I would have to do an in-depth analysis at some point. It was the job of the instructor to look over the examination, make a few notes, and then the dean of the school would look it over. Pending transcripts and such from other schools, Dean Channing and I would have to go to the school board for all three of Tabby’s children, a task in it of itself which could be daunting, but I knew that the members of the school board had their heads screwed on correctly and would admit them if they were up to par.

Class ended at its usual time for me that afternoon—2:30—which gave Annette plenty of time to do her lesson and plenty of time for me to leave early. I had a dress that Christian liked in my bag, and my plan was to change into it and surprise him at the office that afternoon. I’d arranged with Elena for her to take over a meeting Christian had planned so as I could go down there and potentially have hot office sex with my new boyfriend—naughty, I knew, but maybe I would need a lawyer...

I quickly went to the teacher’s bathroom and changed into the dress—deep purple with black lace in the front and back—and made my way out of there into my car in the teacher’s section of the parking lot. My heels clicked on the cement ground as I unlocked my car and got into it, driving out of the parking lot as quickly as I dared. The last thing I needed was one of the security guards to bust me for speeding.

The commute from my area to Downtown wouldn’t be too difficult, and I knew that all I really had to deal with was crazy teenagers getting out of high school at this time of day. It went by more quickly than I expected, and I parked in Christian’s office underground parking garage, and clicked the proper button to get to his office. I stepped into the waiting room, and the secretary—having been briefed by Elena—motioned for me to head back.

I walked by Elena’s office and she gave me a quick wave as I walked by, and I nodded to her. I made my way down to the other end of the hall, where Christian’s oval-shaped office was. There was a certain amount of power in that particular office shape, and I felt myself becoming more and more aroused as I walked down the rest of the hallway to the office. The door was stamped CHRISTIAN GREY, ATTORNEY AT LAW, and I very nearly lost it as I peeked through the window, and saw him staring out at his impressive view. Seeing nobody around, I bravely turn the handle and step inside quickly, pulling the shade and locking the door in one swift motion.

“Ana!” Christian says, duly shocked by my unexpected entrance, my attire, and at my quick advancement towards him. “What are you...?” he asks.

But he is suddenly cut off as my lips silence him, and as I manage to fish my hands underneath his pristine black suit, attempting to take it off, and fast. “Annette teaches the children their last lesson of the day,” I whisper into his mouth, “and I’m all caught up on my assignment correcting.”

“Ana...” Christian says, in a tone that is obviously a mixture of arousal and worry at the situation. “You should probably know now that this room isn’t soundproof and that you and I would be in a very compromising position should any of my coworkers unpredictably hear the two of us...”

I pull back from him then, making my eyes as large as saucers. “Don’t you like a little danger in your life?” I ask him.

Christian clearly looks annoyed. “That’s beside the point, Ana.”

I lean forward then, gently taking his lower lip into my mouth and biting down upon it ever so slightly; I couldn’t imagine where on earth this behavior had come from, but I wanted him inside me, and I wanted him now. “Christian, please,” I say, finally permitting myself to go for broke, knowing that I needed him, and desperately. “I came down here from work because I couldn’t stand being away from you. Please...”

“What are you saying, Ana?”

“I’m saying that...” I look around, a little apprehensive to be voicing these feelings I was having, and my flushed face proved it. “I... I’m... Aroused, okay?” I whisper. “I was aroused from the moment I clicked ‘open’ on those emails earlier. I was aroused when I left the classroom. I was aroused when I changed into _this_ for you,” I say, taking off my jacket and revealing the dress, much to his delight. “I was aroused when I drove all the way here—took all I had for me not to get into a car accident because of it,” I say. “And I was aroused walking down the hall...”

“Walking down the hall?”

“Yes...imagining your office...”

“And making love inside it?”

I give him a smirk. “You have an _oval_ office, Christian,” I say to him, slowly. “It would be like making love to a president...”

“Is that a fantasy of yours?” he asks.

I reach forward and take ahold of his simply patterned necktie, wrapping it around my fingers gently before pulling him closer. “Only if that president is you,” I say softly, allowing one of my legs to rise and gently rub up from his ankle to his hip. “I don’t want anyone else touching me, Christian—not anyone... I mean, you wouldn’t want me to go looking elsewhere for any kind of sexual satisfaction, would you?”

Christian tightens his grip, his dark eyes boring into mine in a moment of passion and anger—he wanted this as much as I did. “You wouldn’t dare,” he says, deathly quiet, to me, although he was weakening, that much I knew.

I gently rub up against his thigh, challenging him, showing off the goods so as he’d know _exactly_ what it was he was missing. “Try me,” I reply.

He pulls the rest of my jacket down my arms and makes quick work of throwing it across the room, so as it clatters into a corner. He leans down then and quickly captures my lips with his, finding the zipper at the back of my dress and dragging it down quickly, so that it lands at my feet. He chuckles into my mouth as I proceed to yank at his tie, which he quickly unknots properly and takes off his jacket, shirt, and pants, so as we are both standing before one another in just our underwear. He is panting, looking down at me, and I am doing the same, much like a bitch in heat would, and I am practically shaking, my body begging him to put his hands back on me.

Christian reaches behind me and unclips my bra, staring in awe at my breasts as the pair of them swing free. He takes one in one hand, then the other, and I virtually melt at his touch, letting out soft moans as he takes hold of the swollen nipples between his fingers, squeezing them ever so slightly. As I watch him, my eyes widen when he bends down and takes one nipple in his mouth and sucks if for a period, then does the same with my second nipple. I hold my knees together, fearful of what will come if this goes on for much longer, and I don’t want to ruin his carpeting.

Chuckling to himself, Christian gently eases me up onto his desk and kneels before me, taking ahold of the band of my panties and easing them off. He seems to chuckle again when the fabric near my crotch lingers there for a second longer than the rest; his hot breath upon me there makes me squirm, my legs forming goose bumps quickly on my pale flesh as I imagine his wants and needs in those moments. He gently eases my legs apart, bending his head and permitting his tongue out from betwixt those sensual lips of his as he steps forward, tasting me.

“Christian, what are you...?!” I cry out then, suddenly letting out a moan and making a grab for his thick hair, plunging his mouth closer and closer into the crevice between my legs as I feel every sensation I’d long since convinced myself I never needed in my life. “Please, Christian, don’t stop...” I whisper. I feel my toes curl at the feeling of his hot breath upon me, sending goose bumps up and down my legs. “Christian...” I whisper, knotting my fingers into his hair, and he chuckles against me, opening his mouth wider—it is a small movement—and allows his tongue to slip inside me. This is a new development and my eyes, once closed, now shoot open at this new, pleasurable thing I am feeling. I feel as if he has taken me to a whole new level, and I cannot even begin to comprehend what this means.

He chuckles a bit then, after I manage to potentially damage his desktop, and helps me to my feet. Shaking, he takes me into his arms, and kisses my forehead. “It’s all okay,” he whispers to me.

I pull back from him, once my mind can re-focus and I can successfully move without the feeling that I will go crashing down. “Wow,” I whisper, “I never knew that sex could be like that...”

Christian tightens his grip upon me then. “I want you to experience everything, Ana, everything.” He runs his finger along my lip. “But only when you’re ready to do so—only when you say the words.”

“Soon,” I reply.

Christian helps me re-dress and kisses me goodbye, before assuring me that he’ll be at my parent’s house for dinner around six. I leave his office and walk down the hallway by myself, and it is then that I notice Elena’s office door is open. Peering around the corner, I catch her in a phone conversation, and it doesn’t take me very long to discern that she’s talking about our case. I shiver untowardly at the information I somehow manage glean from her half of the conversation...

“What the hell do you mean, Eric?!” she demands, fear at the back of her voice. “He skipped town?!”

_Shit_, I think to myself.

“Some bastard must’ve tipped him off—my moneys on that sister of his. Yes, I know she’s best friends with the victim, Eric, but friendship doesn’t mean anything in this day and age when you come right down to it. Yes, loyalty does come at a price. Who knows? If I were her, I may have done the same thing...” Elena trails off then as she turns around in her chair, spotting me in the hallway.

I put up my hand and wave to her, a _Don’t fuck with me _expression now etched into every line of my face.

“Oh, shit. Eric, I’m going to have to call you back—Anastasia Steele is here.” Elena hangs up the phone and sighs, and walks out from around her desk. “Come in, Ana,” she says, pressing a button on her phone.

“Yeah?” I hear Christian say on the other end.

“Christian, there’s been a new development,” Elena says, getting to the point as she runs her hands through her hair. “I need you down in my office right now.”

“Elena, I’m on the deadline for the Collins case...”

“Christian, it’s an equally important case...”

“Elena, I can’t. It’s not that simple...”

“Christian, dammit, listen to her!” I shout then, feeling uneasy at what I’d heard. “It’s my case for Christ’s sake!”

“Shit,” Christian replies, and the line goes dead.

I hear him opening his office door, and his expensive shoes on the carpet as he makes his way into Elena’s office. I give a half-smile to his apologetic gaze as he comes up behind me, putting a protective arm around my waist. “Took you long enough,” I mutter, and he squeezes my hip where Elena can’t see.

“What’s going on?” he asks Elena.

Elena sighs, her eyes getting a worried tint to them as she runs her hands through her hair, exasperated at this turn of events. “That was just Eric on the phone,” she says, and Christian seems to automatically tighten his grip on my hip. “It seems as though Ethan was forewarned of his impending arrest and has fled.”

“Where is he?” Christian demanded.

“His location is unknown at this point,” Elena replies, “but Eric and I agree that whoever told Ethan of his arrest...”

“Someone told him?!” Christian demanded.

“We’re guessing, but we just don’t know,” Elena says, and I decide not to bring up that Elena accused Kate. “Right now, we need to keep Ana safe—who knows what he’s thinking if he jumped bail? What we know is that either he paid it off himself or someone paid to get him out...”

“I haven’t spoken to Gia, his other sister, since the night of the assault,” I tell Elena, my tone urgent, “but she’s bound to know what’s going on. Kate must’ve filled her in. I love Jess, but she and I were never close on the level that Kate and I were. I’m worried maybe her or Scott said something...”

“And Scott is...?” Elena asks.

“That would be Gia’s fiancé,” I reply. “They got engaged just a day or two before the assault took place. Scott’s nice enough but his parents are ministers. He’s left the Christian lifestyle but he has a strong moral fiber. He could’ve convinced Jess to forgive Ethan and to...bail him out.” I shrug.

“Have you known Scott for a long time?” Christian wants to know.

“Ever since it got serious with them,” I reply. “A few years...”

“Okay, here’s what you gotta do,” Elena says. “You’ve got to call Gia and see if she knows anything.”

“My phone or your phone?” I ask.

“Yours,” Christian says. “She’ll recognize the number and pick up.”

Nodding, I dial Gia’s number and listen to the rings...

“Hey, Ana,” Gia says, friendly but clearly preoccupied with something. “Is your day going okay...?”

“Jess, I’m not blaming you for what happened,” I tell her calmly.

She sighs a little then. “You wouldn’t have, Ana, even I know that. Have you talked to him at all?”

“Not since he broke into my house, no.”

Gia groans. “He always was a little unhinged—I’m so sorry we never took your worries seriously.”

“Have you seen him?” I ask, and Elena nods with encouragement.

“No,” Gia replies, and I believe her. “Scott and I saw him a day or two after the assault but we just had lunch for an hour or so and then we had to get back to work.”

“And not since then?”

“No... Why this interrogation, Ana? Is everything all right?”

With Elena’s signal, I reply then, “No, Gia. Ethan somehow made bail and now he’s skipped town.”

“Made bail?!” Gia cries. “After all he did to you?!”

I sigh. “I know it’s hard to believe,” I tell her, “but we just had to ask if you’d seen him. It’s procedure—I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s fine,” Gia assures me. “I totally get it.”

“I have a few other calls to make...”

“Sure, sure,” Gia says, her tone uneasy. “I’ll call Scott and text you if he tells me if he knows something or not.”

“That’d be great, Jess. Talk to you soon.”

“Goodbye,” she says.

“I’ll call Kate now,” I say, putting in her number.

“_The Seattle Sazerac_, Editor & Chief Kate Harper’s line, Brett speaking,” says the rather flamboyant voice of Kate’s new assistant—her eighth so far that year. “Who may I say is calling, please?”

“Hey, Brett,” I say, attempting to keep my tone civil. “This is Kate Harper’s best friend, Anastasia Steele calling.”

“Oh, Anastasia!” Brett gushes, “of course! One moment please...”

I roll my eyes at the notion that Brett would know who I was; I’d only been to the office a few times since Kate had taken him on, and I knew that the case had been kept out of the papers... “Finally,” I say as I hear Kate’s rather customary intake of breath before she answers me.

“Sorry—budget meeting,” she says, and I know that she has me on speaker phone because I can hear her shifting various article proposal documents around her desk. “What’s going on?”

“Your brother is missing,” I say, gripping the edge of Elena’s desk before finally permitting myself to sit down. “We don’t know what’s going on—I tried Gia already, but nothing. Do you know anything?”

At once, the document shuffling ceases. “You know what, Ana? I thought we had put this behind us.”

“Me accusing your brother?” I fire back. “Because I wasn’t lying about that—you know the DNA matched him to me.”

Kate sighs, knowing that she would be a suspect. “No, not that. Me willing to, I don’t know, harbor him or something—I don’t know what lawyers and cops are calling it these days. I don’t know where Ethan is. He knows I’m supporting you in this and he stopped talking to me after he was arrested. He stupidly decided to use me as his one phone call to bail him out and of course I said no...”

Immediately, Christian leaves my side and gets on his cell phone. “Briggs,” I hear him mutter into it, “I need some men watching the offices of _The Seattle Sazerac_ at all times—Kate Harper is the editor and chief, as well as Ana’s closest friend, and I think she may be in danger.” He is silent for a few moments, and I hear the slight buzzing on the other end as Briggs answers before Christian responds, “We just received intelligence that her older brother, Ethan, was refused bail money from her so she may turn out to be a target due to him jumping bail. Thanks, Briggs...”

“And furthermore, I know the old saying that friends come and go but family is forever—or supposedly, really, considering that _you’re_ my family, too, Steele!” Kate says, her voice hurt. “Your parents let me live at your house for _years_ for Christ’s sake, plus I’m practically living with your brother, in a matter of speaking...”

“Theo’s moving into the condo?!” I demand.

“We’re discussing it, but that’s beside the point,” Kate says, cutting my question off. “The point is, my brother has broken the law and has justifiably hurt you, therefore, he deserves to rot in jail. Was he there for me after not one but both our parents decided to pick their second families over us? Yes, but so were you, and you haven’t broken the law.”

I sigh. “I don’t know what the policies are about dating your student’s uncle,” I say, letting out a nervous laugh as I try and fail to figure out what Christian’s phone call to Briggs is all about.

“Probably nothing,” Kate replies. “Father, maybe, I don’t know... Oh! A hot topic to write about!” she squeals, and I hear the scrape of her pen inside her notebook.

“Kate, this is serious,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ve been going through my mind as to who Ethan would’ve run to, and...” At once, my mind fills with dread as I begin to consider it. “Please, just let me talk to you later,” I say, and promptly hang up on Kate before she can refuse.

“You’ll also send someone to pick up Ana’s car from the parking garage,” I can hear Christian whispering into his phone.

“Eric, it’s me,” Elena says, having called her husband, and I wonder then how the two of them have ever managed to make their marriage work, or to build a family. “Yeah, Ana’s making some calls right now...”

“Annette,” I say, my voice filling with relief when she answers her phone. “Are you and the kids all right?”

“School ended twenty minutes ago,” Annette tells me calmly. “I’m just on my way back to my apartment now. Is everything okay?”

I am awash with relief as I reply, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Ethan jumped bail and I’m going through the people who either know about him or know about the case in some way... I was afraid he’d gotten into the school and done something terrible or something...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be on the lookout,” Annette assures me.

“Thanks,” I tell her. “I have some more calls to make and, if my boyfriend lets me, I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, if he’s just being protective,” Annette says, fire in her voice at the potential danger of the situation. Since our first meeting, I knew how much she lived for the kids, which is why I also knew how fit she was for a career in teaching. “You know as well as I do the security measures the school puts in place to ensure safety for staff and students alike.”

I smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. See you tomorrow,” I say, hanging up on Annette and quickly dialing my parent’s number.

“Sweetie?” Mom asks.

“Are you with Dad?”

“Hi, kitten!” I hear Dad say in the background.

“Yes—your brother, Father, and I are heading Downtown for an early dinner with Kate. Is something wrong?”

“Something’s wrong,” Theo says immediately.

“Put Theo on right now,” I say, knowing that it’ll be easiest to explain to him. Once the phone is passed to him, I deliberately try stalling him. As he is my twin, and, therefore, knows everything about me, he will know full well that there is something amiss and will call me on it.

“Come on, little sister,” he says, immediately taking on the official older twin voice. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Completely surprised that Kate hadn’t called him in a panic, I replied, “I think you’re going to be very upset... But Ethan’s jumped bail.”

“Shit,” Theo replies. “Is Kate...?”

“She’s fine—we just spoke,” I inform him. “Christian’s apparently got some men surrounding her work building, so she’s protected.”

Theodore lets out a sigh of relief. “I approve,” he tells me.

“I’m sure he appreciates that,” I reply. “But now that I know you, Kate, Gia, and Annette are safe...”

“Is Tabby with you?” Theo asks then.

My blood runs cold. “What?” I ask.

“Tabby. She’s linked to all of this—it’s because of her upcoming testimony that we have leverage in all this...”

“Oh, no,” I say, ending my call to him and promptly dialing Tabby’s number. “Oh god, please, pick up,” I say, willing for her to do so.

Suddenly, the link clicks, and I hear breathing.

I think immediately to say, “Tabby?” but I don’t, because there’s something all too familiar about that breathing that enters my tears, and suddenly I am being slammed up against the wall of my house, or The Electric Violin, all over again. Quickly, I put the call onto speaker phone, and Elena puts Eric on hold, as does Christian with Briggs, and they all listen for a moment. “Ethan, I know it’s you,” I say.

He whines a little, almost as if the jig is up. “I just want to know one thing... Why do you always gotta ruin my fun, Ana?” he says, and I can tell that he’s been drinking.

“Ethan, where’s Tabby?” I reply, forcing my voice to remain calm, although I wanted desperately to find him and shake him for his idiocy, among other things. “I just want to make sure Tabby’s okay...”

He whines a second time. “She’s fine—or she will be,” he declares, and lets out a disturbing laugh then. “They’re all fine.”

“All?” I say then, and realize that maybe Ethan hijacked her inside her car after she’d picked up the kids from school. “Ethan, do you mean to say that you’ve got all three of Tabby’s kids with her?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” he replies.

Elena gave me a thumbs up and mouthed, “He does.”

“Ethan, you don’t want to do whatever it is you’re thinking of doing,” I say, knowing that if he went ape shit, he could do something stupid.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he shouts.

“Ethan... We can work this out, okay?” I say, looking at Elena, who motions for me to keep talking to him. “We can work this all out...”

“Stop trying to feel sorry for me. It’s over now!” he yells, and I hear the telltale sound of children whimpering in the background, so I know immediately then that he has them all there, too. “Shut up!” Ethan hisses, and the noises stop.

“Ethan, I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m asking you to do the right thing, I mean, think about it, what did any of them do to you, really?” I ask then, crossing my fingers that he didn’t know anything. “You still know how to do the right thing, don’t you? I know you, Ethan. I _know_ you...”

“You know what they did,” he replies. “They know what they did—what they all did—to me. I know what they did. And, soon,” he says, his voice a deathly whisper, “everyone will know what they did.”

“Ethan,” I said, “I know what you want.”

“You don’t know anything—”

“But I do,” I say, cutting across him, “I know what you want, and it’s me. Take me instead and send Tabby and her kids home,” I whisper.

“No,” Christian says immediately to Tabby before speaking to me again. “No,” he tells me, more firmly this time.

“Christian would never let you,” Ethan replies.

“Screw Christian!” I say, exasperated. “Take me instead, Ethan,” I say, a note of desperation in my voice, but, to my utter dread, the line goes dead.


End file.
